The day that never comes
by viktriap
Summary: In a world where slavery is still very much in practice PPTH is gifted with a new slave by an Australian doctor. Please read AN for more information
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes:  
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**This story was written for a challenge on Slavefic LJ Community. The challenge was to write about slavery in a fandom where it isn't fitted. So I started this story and it still gets bigger and bigger. I didn't want to publish it anywhere else than on livejournal because its very different from my other stories but than I got some comments that I should post it on here too and after some (much) hesitation I decided to start posting it.  
**

**This is extremely au as it takes place in a world where slavery is a normal part of society and economy. In other aspects though it's still House and tried to keep everyone in character as mush as I could under the circumstances.  
**

**I rated it M because of the topic but there's no sexual content in this (or at least there hasn't been until now) but there's some violence and of course the fact that people are treated as objects.  
**

**So if something like this is not your cup of cake then turn back now. If you are interested though then please read on and comment. There will be frequent updates for a while as about 35000 words are already written.  
**

**Thank you.  
**

**Cha****pter 1: The gift**

Being Dean of Medicine at barely forty wasn't a small achievement, especially for a woman. But it was also a job that required absolute commitment. It was five p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon and Doctor Lisa Cuddy still had a high tower of files on her desk that she had to go through. She was lagging on her paperwork because in the last two days she was babysitting an Australian delegation and that meant that she would stay in the office well after dark. Again. So, when there was a knock on her door, she groaned.

"Come in!" she said.

Janey, her assistant tucked her head inside and smiled at her boss apologetically.

"There's the delivery from Doctor Rowan you had mentioned before" she reported.

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Let them in."

She really managed to forget her long discussion with the charismatic Australian rheumatologist. She was quite surprised when the famous doctor told her that he decided to give one of his slaves to PPTH as a gift. She was even more surprised when Doctor Rowan – or Robert, as he insisted on her to call him – explained this slave's special training.

As every big institution, the hospital had its fair share of slaves but they worked in maintenance mostly and the kitchen and some in administration, but none of them took part in patients' care. She knew of course that there were hospitals where most nurses – at least those who did lower jobs – were slaves, but this one's training was quite special if what Doctor Rowan said was correct. And why wouldn't it be?

By the time her assistant came back with two men in tow, Cuddy stood up, waiting for them. The first man was wearing the usual black uniform of the rented slave-handlers and had the end of a leash in one hand, some papers in the other. The other end of the leash was connected to the handcuffs that circled the second man's wrists, in the common way slaves were transported.

The handler pulled on the leash harshly, ordering the slave to kneel down, who did so obediently.

"I have a delivery from Doctor Robert Rowan" the handler said looking at his papers. "I have to give this one over to Doctor Lisa Cuddy at Princeton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital."

"That would be me" Cuddy said.

"Here are the ownership papers, Ma'am" the handler gave over the whole package. "Everything was signed in front of a lawyer and we also reported the change in ownership to the registry, so everything is official by now. You only have to sign the page on top that says that you take the delivery over."

Cuddy quickly signed the said paper and saw that the new owner was the hospital and not her. She explicitly asked for that because she didn't want any personal slaves right now and especially not one she didn't choose for herself.

"And here" the handler took a small box from his inner pocket, "is this. This one has a disciplinary implant, this box contains the control. Very useful device, if you ask me."

"Yes, I'm sure of that" Cuddy said dryly.

She herself wasn't a big fan of the implants. She came from a wealthy family and her parents had a bunch of slaves, but they were never handled cruelly. Brutal punishments were totally unnecessary, you could gain respect with other methods too, that was her father's opinion and Lisa held herself to that. She knew though that Australia was more traditional in its slave policy. For example, as far as she knew, since the implants were introduced every slave got one at birth or after conviction. These implants were connected into the central nervous system and couldn't be removed, which was also a sign that a slave's status could never be changed.

But she wasn't about to give out her opinion to a rental and in front of the hospital's new property. You had to be careful if you wanted to keep your authority intact.

"You want him left cuffed?" the handler asked then.

"No, thanks, that won't be necessary."

The man took off the cuffs and the leash quickly, pushed them inside a pocket and left and just after that did Cuddy turn to take a closer look at the slave who was still kneeling with his head lowered.

"You can stand up, now and it's not necessary to kneel as greeting in this hospital."

When the slave stood, he was a good head taller than her and had a lithe and well-built body. He had blond hair, blue eyes – those he had respectfully averted - and looked very young. He was wearing a white T-shirt, scrub-pants and trainees, and of course a collar around his neck that showed his status to everybody, a thin silver one. That of course had to be changed soon: the collars were uniquely made with an electronic chip inside, so they identified the owner and made possible to track any slave. The hospital's slaves had a white collar with the PPTH letters ingrained in them.

"What's your name?" she asked after her short examination.

"Chase, Mistress" the slave said in the same accent she had heard from Doctor Rowan.

"Doctor Cuddy will do" she said quickly. "Doctor Rowan gave you to the hospital and not me personally, so I'm definitely not your mistress. Doctor Rowan said that you were trained to be a doctor's assistant."

"Yes, Mis… Doctor Cuddy" he corrected himself mid-sentence.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four, Ma'am."

"And how long have you belonged to Doctor Rowan?"

"I've belonged to him as long as I can remember, Ma'am. I was told that I was two when Master bought me."

"What all did you do for him?"

"In the hospital I did tests, procedures, lab work my Master needed and I often assisted in his scientific studies. He also leant me out to different departments when he didn't need me."

"Which departments?"

"ICU, ER, pathology, sometimes the surgical team."

"I see."

It was the same, - if a shorter version - of what Doctor Rowan told her. The rheumatologist praised his slave's abilities. From what he told, Chase could perform practically everything an intern could and this started to give Lisa an idea.

"But you were Doctor Rowan's personal property, weren't you?" she asked to clarify.

"Yes, Doctor Cuddy."

"Did you live in his home or at the hospital?"

"In the last two years I lived in the hospital. Before that I had lived in Master's home."

"Why did it change?"

"Master remarried."

"And?"

"His second wife had many slaves of her own and she said she liked to train them herself. She told that I was too old to be retrained."

"This is why Doctor Rowan decided to give you away?"

Something flickered in the slave's eyes but only for a second, then he answered impassively.

"My former Master didn't tell me his reasons, Doctor Cuddy."

It was strange for somebody to just give away a slave after owning him for such a long time and apparently putting a lot of effort in his training and she had a suspicion that the boy knew more about his master's motives than he told.

"All right, I want you to know that we don't have any slaves with your training and never did. Tomorrow I want to test what you know so be here in front of my office at 7 a.m."

"Yes, Doctor Cuddy."

"You can leave now. Wait outside and I'll call somebody who will show you around and help you settle down."

The young man bowed and left while Cuddy went back to her desk. She first called somebody to take care of the new slave and then she went back to her files.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: A new place**

Chase stood in front of the office and tried to stay invisible. At this moment he could understand the slaves bought by Doctor Rowan who were scared out of their minds during their first few weeks in their new owner's house.

Not that he didn't expect this… well, not exactly **this**, but being sold. After everything that had happened he was surprised to last this long. However he's never expected to just be given away as a gift. Due to Jonas - the oldest slave in the Rowan household -, to be given away for free was the biggest humiliation that could happen to a slave. Despite everything, Chase didn't think that he deserved such a punishment. But maybe his Master – _his former Master_, he corrected himself – didn't know that this was a humiliation.

The thought that he was in a different country was also very frightening. He had been to Europe and to Japan with Doctor Rowan before but he did the same things in the foreign countries he did at home: helped his Master during his lectures and served him in the hotel. Now though he didn't know what will be expected of him.

A test, Doctor Cuddy said. Chase was sure of his medical knowledge – he had to be if he wanted to keep the skin on his back intact, because Doctor Rowan didn't tolerate mistakes -, but what if Doctor Cuddy wants him to do a procedure that he has never learned? What if things were done differently here? Will he be allowed to do the job he was trained for, at all? What if she won't like what she saw?

The arrival of a female slave distracted him from his thoughts. She was wearing a white collar, probably the same he would be wearing soon. After getting his new collar, the change would be really permanent. She bowed to the assistant before she turned to him.

"Hi, I'm Jay. One of the hospital's resident slaves" she greeted him with a smile.

"I'm Chase."

She was about thirty and would have been quite pretty if it weren't for the long scar on the left side of her face. It started over her eye and ended at the chin. It looked like it was caused by a knife or something equally sharp. Chase wondered how she got that one.

"Doctor Cuddy told me to show you around, get you some clothes, something to eat, somewhere to sleep and a new collar. I guess we should start with a tour and we can make a stop in the kitchen on the way" she explained. "I'm tech support by the way, what will be your job?"

"I'm not sure yet. I was doctors' assistant at my former place."

The woman looked at him surprised.

"Really? The hospital hasn't had slaves in patients' care until now."

"Doctor Cuddy told me the same."

"Doctor Cuddy isn't known for wasting resources" she commented maybe to calm him down (his nervousness had to be obvious), but it didn't really help.

Meanwhile they started their tour, walking close to the wall as it was proper and Jay showed the signs that helped to find one's way in the hospital. It wasn't very different from the hospital in Melbourne. It took some time but they covered all five floors, ending their tour in the cafeteria's kitchen. As far as Chase could tell this was the only part of the hospital where no free people worked.

"Hey, Marcos!"

Jay greeted one of the chefs with a grin.

On their tour Chase found that she was a friendly but very matter-of-fact woman and that everybody knew her around the place. About a dozen people stopped them to ask for some services. He also noticed that she spoke quite casually with the doctors and nurses, she wasn't disrespectful at all, but if Chase spoke to any doctor like this in Melbourne, he sure as hell would have ended up with some bruises. Every time they were stopped, Chase just pulled back and waited for her to finish.

Marcos, who they met now in the kitchen, was a very tall and very muscular man. Chase wasn't short himself but felt small next to the man.

"What's up, babe?" the giant asked Jay with a wink.

"This is Chase. He's new and I suspect that he hasn't eaten in a while. Neither did I, by the way."

"Is there some moment in time when you aren't hungry?" the man asked teasingly.

"You know me! So can you give us something or not?"

"Can't I always?"

"Of course, you can" and she put a big kiss on his cheek.

Something was clearly going on between these two and this was another surprise to Chase. In Australia it was strictly forbidden for slaves to form relationships unless it was arranged by their masters.

"Wait here" Marcos ordered and vanished to the back of the kitchen.

Jay turned back to Chase.

"Marcos is responsible for feeding the hospital slaves. You can come to him any time you want because our rations are really generous. Don't hesitate to ask him, he looks scary but his biggest body-part is his heart" she smiled affectionately after the giant.

After getting a good amount of bread, ham and cheese they went to the basement where there were a few rooms for the slaves who lived in the hospital. Jay explained that over sixty slaves worked for the institute but only ten of them actually lived here. Most of the others lived in the small community not far away from the hospital buildings.

Something like this would have never been possible back home, Chase thought again. A group of slaves living together without proper control? Totally unacceptable.

Chase started to realize that things were quite different here in the US than what he was used to.

Jay pointed out one of the rooms.

"You could use this one. Public showers are at the end of the corridor. The room's full of junk right now but we can clean it out quickly… but before that…" she went to another door and opened it with the master-key that she was carrying on her belt. "Choose a few things."

There were huge heaps of clothes in there, hospital uniforms on the shelves and civil clothes on the ground – clothes that were left here by patients probably. Chase picked up a few scrubs – that was a usual wear for him – some T-shirts and a pair of jeans. It took some time to find some underwear though. Most slaves never got any, but working in a hospital meant that he had to follow higher hygienic standards.

"Not much" Jay commented, after she threw a glance at the meager pack of clothes he carried, when he came out at last. "If you need some more later, just tell me so and I'll let you in."

He nodded. She had left when he started to pick out the clothes and now she had a collar in her left hand.

"You need help with putting it on?" she asked.

"No, thanks."

He opened the clamp on his old collar – the chip was deactivated when the ownership was written over, the handler told him so – and for a few seconds he just stared at the small piece of leather. His life would change irreversibly, now. He looked up and met the sympathetic eyes of the woman.

"It will be okay" she said.

She stepped to him and despite what he had told before she attached the new collar around his neck.

"The chip is activated automatically when the clamps are closed" she said putting a hand on his shoulder and she added:

"Let's go and make your room livable."

"Where are you from?" Jay asked a few minutes later while they were packing out mattresses from his future room. "You have a strong accent."

"Australia."

"I was there once with my old Master. They are quite the traditionalists as far as I can remember. "

"I guess. I never knew anything else" he shrugged. "How long have you been here?"

"Four years. My old Master was in the military. After I got injured" she pointed at her face, "he sold me. I ended up in a computer shop at first but my owner went bankrupt and then the hospital bought me at an auction."

"You know" Chase said hesitantly, "I've only had one master my whole life."

It was true despite the fact that his Master often lent him out to other doctors, so Chase at least had some experience in working for others.

"Why did he sell you then?"

"He didn't sell me, he gave me to the hospital as a gift."

"Oh" she looked at him apologetically. "What did you do?"

Obviously being a present wasn't normal here, either.

"I…" he trailed off. It wasn't something he did but it was still his fault. If anything, it was what he **didn't do**. It was very complicated and rather painful to even think about.

"You don't have to talk about it" Jay said quickly, seeing his discomfort.

"It's not that… But it's a very long story. To put it simply, though, my Master's second wife hated me."

"That's tough."

"Yeah…"

"You will get along" Jay said encouragingly.

"You think?"

"Sure. Nobody could find a blemish in your behavior, as far as I can tell."

"Thanks."

Things would be different for sure but maybe it won't be all bad here after all, he thought. Not that he had it that well at home. Not lately, at least. He would never even think bad things about Doctor Rowan but since the first Mrs. Rowan died - or more precisely since she got **really** ill - things had a turn for the worse… maybe he didn't lose so much with being given away. But even if he did, he had no choice but get used to it. He simply had to face the change and try to adapt as best as he could.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The test**

Cuddy was very late. She glanced at her watch again before she stepped out of the elevator and it was already twenty past seven. She was up late yesterday evening and forgot to set the alarm. Now her whole day would consist of running. She was so preoccupied with this idea that she almost missed the new blonde slave waiting for her at her office door.

"Good morning, Doctor Cuddy" he greeted her respectfully.

"Good morning…" she hesitated for a second because she couldn't remember the slave's name.

"Chase" the young man provided quietly.

"Oh, yes, Chase. Wait a few moments until I put down my things and then we can start."

She put down her bag, looked through the mail that Janey left on her desk and signed a few bills. When she finished the morning routine she pushed the call button on the phone.

"Janey, please send Chase in!"

Seconds later there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

The young slave came inside, closed the door and then stopped at the edge of the carpet. For a moment she inspected the boy: he was wearing hospital srub-pants with a new T-shirt, and she could see that Jay gave her a new collar too. His face was impassive and his eyes were trained at some point over Cuddy's shoulder. It was the perfect posture for a slave while waiting for orders.

"Well, I was thinking about you and I think it would be a waste not to use your abilities. I already have something in mind but before I make the final decision I want to see how much you really know. To start with, we check on one of my patients, she needs a basic metabolic panel. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Doctor Cuddy."

"Then tell me what it measures" she asked.

"Level of sodium, potassium, chloride, bicarbonate, blood urea nitrogen, creatinine, glucose and calcium."

"Correct. Follow me!"

They walked to a store-room and Cuddy ordered Chase to collect everything they would need for taking a blood-sample. He vanished inside but was back very quickly with the set in his hands and then they went to the patient's room.

"Good morning, Patricia! How are you today?" Cuddy greeted the young woman who was sitting up in bed and looked to be well, or at least much better than a few days ago.

"Good morning, Doctor Cuddy! I'm much better, thanks."

"Good. We need another blood-test to see if everything's really all right and if it is, you can go home in a few days."

"I can't wait! Don't get me wrong but this bed isn't very comfortable…"

"I bet, it isn't. Chase here, will take some blood from you."

The young woman threw a suspicious glance at the slave.

"Really?" she asked worriedly.

"Yes, don't worry, he's trained and I'll be here, supervising every move he makes. You can start now" she stepped away to give room to Chase.

Cuddy watched closely how Chase worked. First, he pulled a chair next to the bed and laid out the equipment in easy reach.

"Am I allowed to touch your arms to search for an adequate vein, Ma'am?" he asked and Patricia nodded, still obviously nervous a little bit.

Chase carefully patted down both her arms and then said:

"I'll take the blood from your right arm, okay?"

"Sure."

He put on the tourniquet, held the arm hanging, waited some, then swabbed the arm with alcohol, waited some more and inserted the needle quickly but carefully. Patricia turned her head away after the swabbing. Chase then applied the vacutainer blood vial that filled up quickly. He released the tourniquet and pulled out the needle.

"It's over, Ma'am" he said while putting on the pressure gauze.

"Really?" Patricia looked at him surprised and smiled. "I didn't feel anything, you're better than the nurses!"

'Thank you, Ma'am."

Chase was already cleaning up the used swabs and needles, dropping them in the biohazard refuse bin.

"I'll come back when I know the results. Have a good day!" Cuddy said and led the way outside.

"Thank you, Doctor Cuddy."

In front of the room, she turned to the slave:

"You did well in there" she said and then took out a small notebook from her pocket and scrabbled down a few words.

"Go to the lab on the third floor and run the test. Give this to the head technician, he will let you use the equipment. You ought to be ready by nine with it. I want you to meet me at the great auditorium then. I'm having two lectures today and I want you to take part in those. Be prepared that I'll ask you questions! Can you find your way?"

"Yes, Doctor Cuddy."

"Okay then, I'll see you at nine."

Two minutes before nine Cuddy arrived at the auditorium's entrance and it was a miracle in itself that she wasn't late again. Chase was waiting for her standing next to the wall. She waved him over and saw that he had a piece of paper with him.

"What are the results?"

"Creatinine level is somewhat increased, everything else is normal."

She held out her hand and he gave over the results. After a glance she could see that he was right.

"What does this indicate?"

"Her kidneys don't function perfectly" he answered without hesitation.

"Yes, Patricia had a kidney infection, but she's definitely on the mend. Get in there and find a place in the first row!"

She watched as Chase waited until all the students went in and sat down, only then did he follow them, found a free spare chair and used that to sit down. Some of the students threw curious glances at him but most didn't acknowledge the new face at all.

Cuddy liked to ask questions during her lectures and today she decided to ask Chase first, turning to the med students only after he didn't know the answer. It wasn't a good plan, as it turned out, because the slave seemed to know everything. It was quite impressive, actually and she realized that asking him to take blood and doing a basic test was not really testing his abilities. So she changed her method and asked the students first and asked Chase only when the students couldn't answer. To her amazement, he was able to answer those questions too.

Her second lecture was a practical one. They practiced lumbar puncture in both lateral and sitting position. Cuddy made Chase do it first and he didn't need any instructions, actually he did it perfectly. She could easily use him as demonstration and every time someone did something wrong, she asked Chase to show the right way.

After the lectures she made him perform some other procedures, like intubation on a practice dummy, administering an IV on a patient and asked theoretical questions about a bunch of lab tests – what they were used for, what diagnoses you could confirm with them and how you performed them.

She also monitored his overall behavior. Despite the fact that he was very obedient, polite and submissive, just like a properly trained slave had to be, he was surprisingly confident when it came to medical questions. He obviously picked up things quickly, as after only one day he found his way around the hospital easily. The idea that had come to her yesterday sounded better and better. Taking into consideration that Chase spent his whole life serving a world-famous, genius doctor, who was also quite arrogant and self-righteous, he was probably more than perfect for the task on Cuddy's mind.

It was quite late by the time they got back to her office, there he turned to Chase again.

"You did very well today" she said.

"Thank you, Doctor Cuddy."

"So, I made the decision about your job."

For the first time she glimpsed some nervousness in his eyes.

"You are going to work for the Diagnostics Department and your main supervisor will be Doctor Gregory House. If you are not needed there, other departments can use you as well. I'm going to announce this opportunity in our next stuff meeting."

When she mentioned House's name, she saw that every pretence of indifference vanished from Chase's face and his eyes went wide with something that looked definitely like awe.

"You've heard about Doctor House before, haven't you?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am. My former Master thought it important for me to read medical journals and I read a few of his articles. It will be a real honor to follow his orders."

"Just don't tell him so" Cuddy said dryly. "I warn you, he's not an easy person. On another topic, I'd like you to continue your readings and studies. The hospital has a great library, I'll get you a free card there, so you can use it when you have some time."

"And now I'd like you to meet Doctor House" she finished.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Doctor House**

After what Doctor Cuddy had told him, Chase was in total awe and he followed the Dean blindly through the corridors. Doctor House was a real genius, even Doctor Rowan said so and his former Master didn't often praise other doctors. If he would be allowed to work for someone like Doctor House, then Chase wouldn't mind how hard a person he was, he would be happy. In the morning earlier – when he woke up at thirty past four after only a few hours of restless sleep – he was sure that he would end up working in the morgue at best. He would of course do any work he was ordered to do but he liked to help doctors heal people, even if his own role was insignificant. And now he was about to get an extraordinary task, if Doctor House accepted him, of course.

Chase didn't actually believe that he deserved such an important job, but he definitely would be on his best behavior. Taking blood and doing a simple blood-test wasn't hard and the answers he gave in the lectures he had learned by the time he was fourteen, so it was no big deal. For this reason, he decided that he would do everything he could, work as hard as possible, to repay this great trust.

Diagnostics was on the fourth floor and the department consisted only of two offices. The smaller one belonged to the department head, the other clearly to staff, but there was nobody in the bigger office. Probably all the doctors were with patients right now, he guessed. Someone like Doctor House surely had at least three or four fellows the same way Doctor Rowan did.

They went into the department head's office, Chase stepping inside after Doctor Cuddy and then stopping next to the door. He threw a careful glance at the forty-something man behind the desk. He was good at observing people quickly and without really looking at them, as looking straight at free citizens was disrespectful, this was quite an important ability. Doctor House had his legs up on his desk and was playing on some kind of video-game. He didn't pay any attention to the fact that somebody – moreover his boss – came into the room. He looked kind of rough with his few-days old subtle, wearing jeans and a T-shirt with some band's logo on it. Actually, he didn't look like any doctor Chase had ever met before.

"House!" Doctor Cuddy called edgily. "Shouldn't you be interviewing new fellows right now?"

"I'm evaluating my methods of hiring, as they were obviously not appropriate the last time" Doctor House answered without looking up. "The last one only stayed for two weeks and then she left screaming and crying his eyes out."

"And you had nothing to do with this episode, I suppose?"

"She obviously had chronic depression or something…" suddenly House dropped the game, and pulled his legs from the table but still didn't stand up. "But what brings you here, my dear boss? Not that it isn't always a pleasure…" his sarcastic tone suggested the total opposite.

Doctor Cuddy sighed, and Chase started to understand what she meant when she said that Doctor House wasn't an easy person.

"I brought you some help" she pointed at Chase and he straightened his shoulders but bowed his head deeper. "This is Chase."

"Thanks, but I don't need any new playthings" House said dismissively after he looked Chase up and down. Chase could practically feel the doctor's measuring eyes on himself.

"Doctor Rowan, the well-known Australian rheumatologist, gave him to our hospital. I tested him myself…"

"Poor thing!" Doctor House exclaimed in a falsely frightened voice, cutting Doctor Cuddy's explanation short. "I can't believe you didn't suffocate him with your breasts!"

"Shut up, House" Doctor Cuddy ordered in a matter-of-fact voice, while Chase felt himself blush to the ears.

"He's really cute when he turns red" the diagnostician commented, which just made Chase even redder.

"If you would let me finish" Doctor Cuddy continued as if nothing happened, "I would tell you, that he is a trained doctor's assistant. From now on he works for you, so get used to the idea. You like ordering people around, so why aren't you happy? He's a slave, so you can order him around as much as you want. I'm sure he won't cry! Get acquainted!"

And with that she left, leaving Chase alone with his new master. He guessed, even if Doctor House wasn't his owner per se, as his primary supervisor, as Doctor Cuddy put it, he was the closest thing to a master Chase would have here. He stayed where he was and waited for instructions… or anything to happen.

Doctor House stood at last and came out behind the desk. Chase could see now that he walked with a heavy limp and had a cane to help him walk. He was very tall, about four-five inches taller than Chase himself and kind of gaunt. He stopped in front of Chase and just examined him for a while. He tried not to fidget at the scrutiny.

"You sure, you are not Cuddy's new pleasure boy?" Doctor House asked then, not exactly the question Chase expected.

"No, Master."

"No, you are not sure? Or no, you are not her pleasure boy?"

"I'm not Doctor Cuddy's pleasure boy, Master."

"Always answer accurately, otherwise I won't know what you're talking about and I'm going to mock you to dead."

"Yes, Master" he answered dutifully but actually had to smile at that under his nose.

Apparently, Doctor House was still watching him closely as he immediately commented on this fact.

"You can laugh at my jokes, you know. If you recognize them, that is. I don't always joke when other people think I do, just so you know."

"Yes, Master."

If your Master says ridiculous things always agree, was the second or third rule Jonas taught Chase when he was a child. Chase guessed this was an especially valid rule when you had a brand new master who you have never met before.

"And - though I really like the sound of master - , Doctor House will work just as fine."

It seemed that every doctor was quite the liberal here, Chase thought to himself, but he simply said.

"Yes, Doctor House."

"Cuddy might have tested you, but my standards are definitely higher than hers. We leave that to tomorrow though, because now I'm going home. You can clean the department or do anything else you slaves usually do" he said, took his coat and the video game and left Chase quite stunned and alone.

He looked around and decided that the department probably could use some cleaning so he got to work, starting in the outer office. There was a real mess outside: about a dozen used mugs in the washbasin, medical books and journals scattered around on the table and on the floor. After he had washed the dishes, cleaned the coffee machine and the counter and packed out the small fridge (and there were things in there that he couldn't even identify) he started to organize the dispersed literature. To his amazement there were not just books and journals but actual files too and a lot of handwritten notes. He started to pile those up separately.

He also found twelve bottles of Vicodine stashed away in different corners. He left those there untouched. Then he found fourteen more in the smaller office. In there, he didn't do much because it was obviously a more personal space. He just dusted the shelves, cleaned the desk, then went looking for a vacuum cleaner and vacuumed the carpet, the couch and the recliner.

When he finished with everything he looked through the notes and files. He quickly realized that the charts weren't finished and that the notes belonged to different cases. He contemplated for a while, whether he was allowed to use the table or not, then decided that it was better to be safe than sorry and settled down on the floor to pair up the notes with the files and finish up charting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Getting acquainted **

It was about nine when House arrived at his office the next morning. He dropped his messenger bag on the desk and then frowned. Lately, every time he did that a small drift of dust ascended, as about two weeks ago he shouted at one of the cleaning staff for messing with his Vicodine bottles. No one has come in to clean up since then but there was no dust on his desk. He quickly looked under the mail-rack, but his stash was there, untouched. He looked around and realized that the whole office looked much cleaner and much more organized than yesterday. While looking around, it else also caught his eyes that someone was in the outer office. He walked to the door, separating the two rooms, to take a closer look.

The boy that Cuddy brought by yesterday was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, peering over something, a neat pack of files piled up next to him. House totally forgot about him after he had gone home, because he honestly didn't want to think about it at all. _What the hell was Cuddy thinking bringing him a slave?_ On the other hand, though, he contemplated, maybe it could be fun for a while to have a new face around.

He moved forward and stopped in the doorway. The guy was so immersed in what he was reading that he didn't notice that he wasn't alone anymore.

"What are you doing?" House asked loudly.

The boy actually jumped at that, turned around and went to his knees just as quickly. House envied him for being able to move so fluently. That kneeling thing stunned him, though.

"I'm sorry, Master. I didn't notice that you were here" he said in a quiet voice and with a very strong accent.

"So, what were you doing?" House repeated the question.

"I found some unfinished charts and I started to fill them in. If I offended you, I apologize and I ask for punishment, Master."

House raised an eyebrow at that. First of all, 'some' unfinished charts was an understatement – he hasn't done any charting in about a year, or so. Secondly, how the hell would this boy be able to finish up charting when the notes he made on cases were mostly in Latin or consisted of abbreviations? Not that it made much of a difference whether the charts were unfinished or totally messed up.

"Show me some that you have finished" he said, then limped to the table and sat down.

The slave jumped up, took the neat pile House had noticed earlier and put it down on the table.

"When did you do all this?" House asked, really stunned at the amount of paperwork done.

"During the night, Master" even from the corner of his eyes House could see as the guy made a move to kneel back down.

"You don't have to kneel" he said absentmindedly, already looking through the first file.

The notes were attached to the cover pages in correct order and then everything was filled in to the right places. He knew of course, that even pairing up the notes with the files required waste medical knowledge. He leafed through five more files before he looked up again and inspected the boy really closely. He didn't look much older than twenty, in House's opinion, and was what any other person would probably call pretty. He was also definitely a slave: the collar, the carefully averted eyes and the way he was standing motionless at the edge of the table while being scrutinized was evidence enough.

"You know every disease that was mentioned in the files?"

"There were some, I've never met in real life but I've read about them, Master."

"What about the tests and procedures listed? You know those too?"

"Yes, Sir. Some of them I was only allowed to do under a doctor's supervision at my old place, though."

"For example?"

"Invasive procedures, Sir."

"Where was that old place of you, again?"

"Royal Melbourne Hospital, Master."

"Where the kangaroos live, what?" House said in a very fake Australian accent.

"Yes, Master" the boy just said as if nothing strange happened.

"I still think you look like a boy-toy for Cuddy."

The slave looked hesitant for a second then said:

"I'm sorry, Master."

"I told you not to call me master all the time yesterday, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry, Doctor House."

The way he said House's name made it sound exactly as if he had said Master, but House didn't comment on it.

"Don't tell 'I'm sorry' all the time, either."

"Yes Sir."

"I didn't want a slave" House said then. He was really curious what would make the boy move or at least fidget, because until now he took all the questioning stoically.

"I'm sorry, Doctor House."

"Didn't I just tell you not to say sorry all the time?"

"I'm…"

"Yeah, yeah" he cut in and for the first time he thought he saw something flicker in the boy's eyes. Amusement, maybe? "I know, you are sorry. Never mind, make me a coffee, instead. I take it with two sugars and milk."

The boy went to the counter – which was also very tidy, House noticed – and started to prepare coffee. What he said, was true: he didn't want a slave. Slaves were usually very boring because they were trained to have no personality at all. They were also usually trained for specific jobs and they could be very good at that task but when you asked them to do something else they froze down like a bad computer. Not that House thought it was their fault, but this didn't change the end result. A slave that could learn complex things like a bunch of medical procedures and was able to actually read about medical conditions made House curious.

A steamy mug of coffee was carefully put down on the table in front of House and he took a small sip.

"Good. Charting is your job from now on. So is cleaning the offices."

"Thank you, Doctor House."

"I've never met anybody who thanked for being allowed to do paperwork" he said bemused.

That slight flicker of amusement was definitely there again. Interesting. A slave that had a sense of humor and some brain, too. Maybe having the fellow around for a while won't be that boring after all.

"You can continue with the charting now, I'll go visit Wilson. Later I'll introduce you to him and I'm sure you will like him. He's an abolitionist, you know" he added conspiratorially.

He stood up, taking the mug with him but before he left he remembered something, he wanted to mention.

"Oh, yeah, we have a table you know, so you don't have to sit on the floor."

He was already outside when he realized that he forgot to ask an important question so he limped back into the office.

"Hey, kangoo!"

This time he couldn't surprise the slave, he just straightened from where he was collecting the patients' files.

"What's your name again?"

"Chase, Master."

"Strange" he commented, "for some reason, I like kangoo better."

It didn't take long to find out that working for Doctor House was like riding a rollercoaster - not that Chase has ever ridden a rollercoaster in his life, of course, but he saw one once - and it was definitely very different from his previous life.

On the first day, Doctor House came back some time after lunch and ordered Chase to go with him. They went down to the ground-floor where the hospital's free ambulant clinic was. As Chase found out later, every department had to offer certain hours to work there each week. For the Diagnostics Department that meant 16 hours a week - not that Doctor House offered that much exactly, but Doctor Cuddy could be very persistent if she wanted to be.

That day Doctor House made Chase examine the incoming patients and he had to give a diagnosis together and suggest treatment. Doctor House rarely spoke up during the whole afternoon. Actually after the fifth patient he started up his video game and then he only spoke when he mocked the patients. Chase has never met a doctor who talked to patients like Doctor House did. He wasn't naïve of course, spent his whole life in hospitals after all, and knew that a lot of doctors spoke about the patients ugly behind their backs, Doctor House though obviously didn't mind to alienate or even anger people. His comments were mostly dead on and probably that's why most people found them infuriating, some on the other hand were clearly motivated by them.

When they left about seven p.m. House clasped him on the shoulder and with a broad grin he said:

"My clinic hours are your clinic hours, kangoo!"

Chase guessed that meant that he did well.

On the second day, by the time House arrived Chase has finished clinic charts from the day before and had the coffee ready. Doctor House brought a file with him and dropped it on the glass table.

"Read it through" he said, then went to the white board and started to write on it.

Symptoms, Chase realized. He stayed standing, while he was quickly reading through the file, because he would never sit down while a free citizen (his Master, nevertheless) was standing.

When he finished and looked up, Doctor House was staring at him.

"What's your opinion?"

Chase stared back uncomprehendingly.

"My opinion, Sir?"

"Am I talking Chinese?"

Doctor House frowned at him and Chase answered automatically to the harsher tone, lowering his head.

"I'm sorry, Master."

"You know what this department is about, right?" Doctor House asked, softer this time.

"Yes, Master."

"You can only be a useful member of this department if you take part in differentials" Doctor House said like that was the most natural thing in the world.

But Chase wasn't a 'member' of anything. He was just a slave. And he learned early on that slaves didn't have - amongst many other things - opinions.

"You could diagnose the patients yesterday just fine" House said, obviously waiting for some kind of answer.

Chase fidgeted uncomfortably. _How could he explain, how yesterday was different?_ He **knew** what was wrong with those people after the examination. These symptoms though looked mismatched to him and though he had some ideas, he didn't think he had a chance to give the correct answer for the first try. _What if he had it all wrong?_ Doctor House asked for an opinion and opinions didn't have to be correct by definition. In Chase's experience, though, when he was asked a question he was also expected to give a correct answer.

He realized suddenly, that a lot of time went by with him just staring, so he burst out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Brain tumor."

"That six doctors missed?" Doctor House asked sardonically.

Yes, that sounded really stupid, Chase guessed.

"I'm sorry, Master" he hesitated whether to kneel down immediately, then he thought about what Doctor House was like the day before and decided against it, and just asked for proper punishment for his mistake.

"What?"

Doctor House was staring at the board, not looking at him but at his words turned and stared at Chase with a stunned expression. Chase averted his eyes quickly and repeated himself.

"I was asking for my punishment, Sir."

"Why would I punish you?"

He sounded really surprised and it was Chase's turn to look confused and having no idea how to answer to that.

"I won't punish you for one wrong suggestion, you idiot!"

Despite the name-calling, there was no venom in Doctor House's voice, but it didn't really clear things up for Chase. Did that mean that he would only be punished after the second or third wrong answer? Chase had no idea and he wouldn't dream of asking, but something must have shown on his face, because Doctor House, who was still watching him, asked:

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, Master" he said quickly, pulling himself together.

He shouldn't contemplate things or try to rationalize his Master's behavior. He should just obey, do what he was told and nothing more. He should never show distress or any apparent emotions. He knew his face was totally neutral now but Doctor House didn't seem to be satisfied as he sighed loudly.

"We might as well clear things at the start" Doctor House said and sat down at the table. "I've never had a slave and never wanted one, because I don't need a well-programmed automaton. I need you only if you can give me ideas. Diagnostics is about brainstorming, not just about examining a patient and telling what's wrong. You seem like a clever guy. You could easily follow the old files, so I guess you could also get some useful ideas. But to find those you have to speak up everything that comes to your mind, sometimes stupid things even. If you are not capable of doing this I'll ask Cuddy to transfer you to another department. So, can you do it or not?"

It sounded like an easy question, though it was anything but. While working for Doctor Rowan, Chase often had ideas but he never spoke them out loudly because he was never asked. He liked the tasks he used to do because he knew that he did them well and that he was useful but in all honesty, a lot of them he found boring. On one hand, he knew for sure that with Doctor House he would never be bored but on the other hand, speaking up every time he had an idea, was against everything he has ever been taught and it was also a kind of freedom he has never known before. It was a somewhat frightening idea. Still, he guessed this was his big chance to do something different.

"I think I could do that, Doctor House."

"You think?"

"I know I can do it, Sir."

Doctor House eyed him thoughtfully.

"All right, we will see" he said simply and turned back to the board.

Chase hesitated some but if they were discussing the ground-rules of his jobs then he should be sure about these things.

"May I ask you something, Master?"

"You already did" he rolled his eyes "but ask!"

"Does this mean that I won't get punished for my wrong answers?"

"I'll probably mock you and call you a stupid idiot."

Chase actually smiled at that. He was sure that some mocking he could handle easily.

"Are we clear now?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Go to the patient and bring me a full anamnesis and do a head CT. As doctors are usually morons it's easily possible that six of them missed an obvious brain tumor. Oh, and somewhere in between find Doctor Wilson, ask him for my prescription for Vicodine and fill it in at the pharmacy."

In the following weeks Chase got used to his new life quite easily.

It turned out that Doctor House didn't have any fellows but he had about fifty CV's in a file cabinet. Doctor Cuddy came by every day and harassed the diagnostician to organize interviews, which happened three times in the following few weeks, but the three applicants rushed away before their interviews were over.

The department had twelve patients in three weeks and Chase did all the diagnostic tests, because Doctor House didn't like to go near the patients. He instead liked to gather information and then make up his theories because he was interested in medical mysteries and not in the people suffering from the disease.

Chase tried to be helpful in the diagnosis too by doing what his Master expected of him and speak up as often as Doctor House looked at him. Twice he actually came up with the right answer and three other times, one of his ideas helped Doctor House to find the correct diagnosis.

When they had a patient the workload was heavy but then they often had two or three days when nothing happened and Chase wasn't used to that. In a few weeks though – as he made tests all around the hospital and met a lot of doctors – other departments started to ask for him and so he always had something to do.

He was also called stupid, idiot, imbecile or fool more times than he could count but he was used to much worse and honestly, there probably wasn't a single person in the hospital who Doctor House hasn't called an idiot at least once a week, including Doctor Cuddy.

So basically, Doctor House handled him the same way he handled everybody else, and that was something Chase has never experienced before. This fact alone was enough for Chase to quietly swear his everlasting loyalty to his new Master.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Responsibility**

House was content.

This wasn't a very frequent occurrence for him and strangely enough he enjoyed it. Strangely, because most times, when he wasn't chewing over a complex problem, he quickly got bored and felt a general tension that could only be fought by doing things that most people considered wicked – like spying on people, making people cry or occasionally calling a hooker.

Now, though, he was just sitting in his office, listening to music, his arms crossed behind his neck, his feet on the desk and his mind surprisingly empty. He had a patient, but the guy wasn't in critical condition and they were still in the data-collecting-phase. Chase could do that just fine.

After having the slave at the department for almost two months now, House had to admit that Cuddy'd actually had a good idea for once: House could leave every hated part of the job - from clinic hours to caring for the patients to sitting in the lab – to Chase.

To add to his comfort-level, even his pain was manageable today - he was only on three pills and it was already after 1 pm, by this time of the day he was usually well over six or seven.

All in all, it was a perfect day. Or it had been, until the phone rang. House ignored it for a while but it didn't stop, so with a groan he answered it.

"House."

"Come to room 301" a crispy voice ordered.

He knew that voice. That was wicked Brenda, the head-nurse on the floor.

"I'm occupied right now."

"Don't mess with me! Come here. Now!" and she hang up.

House knew that nurses could hold grudges like no one else, and he needed them on his side to get away with as much as he did. This knowledge though, didn't stop him from grumbling about bitchy nurses on his way to his patient's room, until he heard the shouting. The patient obviously wasn't dying, considering the volume.

"How can you let such a lazy, good-for-nothing slave touch a patient?!" the man was shouting in the moment House burst into the room.

He took in the scene with a look: Nurse Brenda tried to keep the patient - a forty-five year old male, House remembered - on the bed, while Chase - who had been sent in here by House to take a blood-sample - was kneeling on the floor, picking up medical equipment, needles, syringes and vials.

"I'm really sorry, Sir. It was my fault…" Chase said quietly when the man stopped rambling for a second.

"It sure as hell was your fault! If I felt better I would break something on your back for this… " the threat ended in a cough and suddenly blood spluttered from the man's mouth.

"Lie back!" House ordered stepping to the bed. "Chase!"

The slave stood and without waiting for further orders, he put the suction in the patient's mouth to get out the blood but the man hit the instrument out of his hand.

"Don't let him near me…" the angry patient wheezed.

When House realized that the man would not tolerate the slave, and he also noticed how Chase's hand was trembling, he decided quickly.

"Chase, go to the office and wait for me there!" he snapped and then turned his whole attention to the patient.

It took about half an hour until the man settled down and by that time House managed to find out from him what had caused his anger. Chase obviously pushed the needle in too deeply causing a blood-vessel to burst and with that a very impressive bruise on the patient's forearm. The man insisted that 'the stupid slaves1 slept in on the job.

House was fuming while walking back to the office. He hated to handle patients, especially when they were having a fit and he didn't tolerate stupid mistakes very well. Screwing up a simple blood-taking was definitely a stupid mistake in his book.

Fortunately, he stopped for a second outside the office and was just watching Chase for a while. The slave was kneeling just inside the door – which in itself was something he hadn't done since his first week at PPTH -, and the fact that his head was lowered and his shoulders were slumped made the sight kind of pathetic. Now, that he stopped thinking, House had to admit that making such a mistake was not like Chase at all. In the last two months he did everything House told him to and if he didn't work perfectly then very nearly so. Something must have caused this failure, and it surely wasn't the boy being lazy or unattentive.

Anyway, this needed to be handled. He walked in and banged the door shut and Chase's head sank even lower at that.

"You care to explain what happened in there?" he asked coldly, walking around Chase and leaning against his desk.

"I'm sorry for my failure, Master. I deserve any punishment you see proper" the slave said quietly.

"Well" House stared at Chase, waiting, but the boy hasn't looked up since the doctor came into the room. "I don't think this counts as an explanation but let's see! What do you think a proper punishment would be for your… failure, as you put it?" he asked.

At that question Chase looked up – just as House knew he would – and openly stared at him. Then realizing what he was doing, averted his eyes quickly. But the short time was enough for House to see that the slave's eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles under them. Looking at him closely for the first time in days, House also realized that Chase was unnaturally pale and he was slightly trembling and House didn't think that it was because he was that scared of the possible punishment.

"I'm waiting for an answer" House said in the same strict tone he has used until now, which made Chase flinch visibly.

"Whipping" he said hesitantly "or activating my implant" he added even more quietly.

House frowned at this and fell out of his role for a moment.

"You have an implant?" he asked surprised.

"Yes, Master."

"And where is the controller?"

"If it's not with you, then I guess Doctor Cuddy must still have it, Sir" Chase sounded detached suddenly. House suspected that he came to the conclusion that the implant would be used now.

"I see."

Chase was as tense as a rubber band just before snapping but he didn't fidget, just waited for the sentence.

"And how many lashes you think would be sufficient?"

He felt sorry to see that the idea of a whipping actually made Chase relax some.

"As many as you wish, Master" he simply said.

"I know that, but I asked for **your** opinion!"

This time the slave moved, but it wasn't much more than a twitch of his muscles. After a short hesitation he answered, though.

"Twenty, Master."

"Oh… twenty, you say. I wouldn't think so…"

Chase's head sank back at that but House didn't take any pity on him yet.

"Before I decide about your punishment I want to know how something like this could happen!"

"I… I…wasn't…." Chase mumbled.

"You suddenly developed a stutter or what?" House snapped at him again.

"No, Master."

"Then explain it coherently!"

"I wasn't paying attention, Master."

"Mr. Dotter said that you slept in. Is that true?"

He realized after the first few days that if he wanted to get a straight answer out of Chase about himself, he needed to ask concrete questions.

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master."

"Are you not feeling well?"

Chase risked another glance at him at the sudden change in tone. House guessed if the slave was ill it would explain things, but Chase just shook his head.

"Then how comes, you were so tired? Haven't you slept?"

"Not really, Master."

"What does that mean?"

"I've worked in the ICU last night. After you went home, Doctor Gardner came by and asked me to help out in the nightshift."

"When did you finish there?"

"At six."

House knew that Chase was in the office every day at six, cleaning out and doing the charts, finishing everything by the time House arrived at about 8. It was 1 p.m. when he sent Chase to take the blood so it meant he's been up for 31 hours. It was long, but not extremely long for people who worked in hospitals unless…

"And the night before?"

Chase's head sunk again as if he were ashamed about what he was going to say next.

"I was working in the NICU."

"All right I'll ask it straight: when was the last time you slept?"

"Sunday night."

"Sunday?!" House exclaimed. It was Thursday afternoon now. No wonder the boy was dead on his feet. He also flinched at the outrageous tone.

"I'm sorry, Master…"

"Why the hell didn't you tell me or Gardner, you were that tired!?"

Chase glimpsed at him again with surprise.

"How could I do that, Master?"

"What are you talking about?" it seemed to House as if they were having two separate conversations, sometimes.

"I'm hospital property, if an employee of the hospital asks me to do something I'm bound to obey" Chase said as if it was something everybody should know without being told.

"Oh…" for once, House was speechless. He hasn't thought about the fact that having a slave work for him did not only mean that he had a limitless source, but also that he was responsible for a person who couldn't actually speak for himself. He will have to do something about that, but first things first.

"Okay. Here's your punishment: You go to your room and stay there, sleeping for at least sixteen hours!"

That earned him another stunned expression.

"But I…" Chase started but House stopped him quickly.

"What? You think you deserve twenty whiplashes for being too tired to stay on your feet?"

"It's the standard punishment for causing damage, Master" the slave said matter-of-factly.

"In Australia, maybe. Were you punished like this before?"

"Yes, Sir. Every severe punishment is listed in the ownership papers."

House frowned again because he, of course, didn't know about any papers, either, just like he didn't know about the implant – he had a lot to talk about with Cuddy.

"Did you understand your orders?"

"Yes, Master, but I…"

"What?!" he asked exasperated.

"I don't think that I can sleep that long, Master."

"I don't care! I don't want to see you anywhere in the hospital until tomorrow 6 a.m. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Master."

"Go now!"

The young man pulled himself to his feet and shuffled out of the room like he was at least seventy. The moment he left, House rushed to Cuddy's office and went in, without knocking.

"I want you to make an announcement at the next staff meeting!" he said without preamble.

"Hello to you, too" Cuddy said sarcastically without looking up from the file in front of her.

"I want you to announce that if a department wants my slave work for them, they have to ask _me_ first" House continued.

Cuddy looked up at that.

"Chase isn't _your_ slave, he belongs to the hospital. And he is a great help, Doctor Gardner praised him for half an hour, just this morning."

"I'll bet" he said with a frown.

"What does that mean?"

"They overwork him. I've just found out that he hasn't slept since Sunday."

Cuddy actually smiled at that. Not at Chase being overworked of course, but that irritating maternal smile of hers that said: _Oh, I know you are a good and caring man deep inside, House…_

"What?!" he snapped quickly, to wipe that smile from her face. "I can't find any use of him if he sleeps in during a diagnosis!"

"Sure" the irritating smile was still in place. "All right, I agree with you. There need to be some rules. I will tell everybody that you have to be asked first, but you have to promise that you won't keep Chase away from other departments, just out of spite."

"I don't do anything _just out of spite" _he said with a pout.

"House?" she raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"Okay, I won't do that."

"And I want Chase to help out in the slave-clinic once a week. You can choose the day."

"Okay, but I want to have a look at his ownership papers!"

"What for?" she looked suspicious.

"I spend a lot of time with him and for all I know he could be homicidal" House said with the most earnest expression he could muster.

"Of course" Cuddy said dryly. "He looks really dangerous to me too."

He just continued staring at her.

"Okay, I don't think that reading the files could cause any trouble."

House spent the afternoon with reading through the file. He didn't even know why he hasn't thought about asking for the papers before, as of course he knew that every slave – at least the legal ones – had their whole life documented. Doctor Rowan bought Chase from a breeder when he was only two, it was the earliest age slaves could be sold, at least in the US. The good doctor obviously had a plan, because he trained the boy from the beginning. There was a whole chapter listing the courses Chase has taken. They seemed to have a similar system down there as in the US – there were courses for slaves in every kind of special tasks and abilities. Not in advanced medicine of course, but that probably Rowan did himself.

There were the results of the regular physical, psychological and disciplinary evaluations which Chase passed with flying colors every single time. He was also sent to a three-days long disciplinary training every six months – House wasn't sure what that meant. As Chase had mentioned, there also was a punishment list with the note that only the severe ones were listed, meaning whippings. There seemed to be a pattern in those, about every three months there was one, with twenty or thirty lashes except one case, only about a year ago with fifty. And that was not signed by the doctor but by Mrs. Rowan.

This was very interesting.

There were also three injuries in the last year. Once a broken wrist, once a broken nose and once a bad concussion. They were all noted as caused by domestic accidents.

House had looked up Doctor Rowan's biography on the web and he knew that his first wife died and he got newly married only about one and half years ago. It seemed that the new Mrs. Rowan moved in and didn't like her husband's personal slave.

House smelled a mystery here. And when this happened, nothing could stop him from getting to the core of it.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: Sorry for the delay, I had some troubles at work and then I left the drive this story is on with a friend, but to make some amends I'm going to post two chapters at once. This first chapter is a new one for those who read this on LJ. It is a short one but more like this are coming.**  
**

Please read and tell me what you think!

**Interlude 1.: Questions**

"I read your file" House said as soon as Chase stepped into the office, "Sit down!"

Chase did as he was told, choosing the most uncomfortable chair in the room. He sat with a straight back, head held high but his look was carefully directed at the level of House's right shoulder.

"I'd like to talk to you about a few things" House finished.

"Yes, Doctor House."

House was well aware that Chase had to answer every question a free citizen asked him (except if it was something his Master explicitly prohibited), but he also knew by now that Chase could be a sneaky bastard when it came to answering questions about himself. So, House had to be sneaky too. He thought about what he had read for almost a week and decided that today was the day when he would ask his questions.

"What did the first Mrs. Rowan die of?" he started.

"Liver failure, Sir."

"Was she an alcoholic?"

"She had some problems with drinking, Sir."

"How long after her death did Rowan remarry?"

"Six months, Sir."

"That was quick, wasn't it?"

"It's not my place to tell, Sir."

"Yes, of course. What does the new Mrs. Rowan do for a living?"

"She used to be a famous dancer, but she didn't do that anymore by the time Master got to know her. She is rich, Sir."

"I bet things changed when she moved in."

Chase didn't say anything to that and it wasn't exactly a question so House couldn't blame him.

"Why did she break your arm?"

It was actually quite amazing that Chase didn't even twitch at the question.

"She didn't break my arm, Doctor House."

"For some reason that's hard for me to believe."

Chase's eyes flickered for a second to House's face, but other than that he didn't move an inch.

"Judging from the file and your work here, you are quite capable but as soon as she moved in you became the clumsiest slave ever, seeing the many household-accidents you had. You know I don't believe in coincidences, so, spill!"

"She didn't hurt me with her own hands, Doctor House. She had her own slaves to do it."

"Okay, _that_ I can believe" House said. "But why did she hate you so much?"

Chase close his eyes for a second and from that simple gesture House could see that keeping up them ask of an impassive slave was not so easy on the boy.

"She had more reasons than one, Master."

"I'm listening."

House didn't want to be cruel but he truly believed that they had to talk about this and not just because of his own curiosity.

"As I said before, Mrs. Rowan was rich even before she married Master Rowan. She had her own household and many slaves of her own. Some of those weren't for simple household-jobs."

"So, she had pleasure slaves." House concluded.

"Yes, Sir. Master Rowan didn't like that idea and Mrs. Rowan didn't want to sell them, so they had a paragraph about them in their marriage agreement. Mrs. Rowan didn't have to sell them as long as she didn't use them for their original purpose."

"And you knew about this agreement."

"Yes, Doctor House. I typed up the agreement for Doctor Rowan."

"Okay, go on."

"One evening, Master Rowan was away and Mrs. Rowan called me to her room. She said…" Chase took a shuddering breath before he continued, "…that she really liked the look of me and she ordered me to service her." he finished quickly.

"And you said no to her." House guessed.

"Yes, Master. I knew that it was against Master Rowan's wish. She got very angry, I could see that but then she said that she wanted only to test me and that she was glad I was such a loyal slave."

"So, that was one reason. What else?"

"Only a few days later I saw Mrs. Rowan with one of her slaves."

"Ouch. So, she couldn't hold up to the contract."

"No, she didn't keep her promise. When she realized I knew about her… indiscretion, she..." Chase trailed off.

"She started to abuse you." House finished. "What did Rowan do about it?"

"Doctor Rowan didn't know about it. Mrs. Rowan always explained things, either by telling that I was disrespectful and needed to be punished, or that I had an accident. Once she said that I was attacked on my way home."

"And Rowan believed those lies?"

"Yes, Sir." Chase said but his eyes told a different story.

House guessed that Chase really wanted to believe that instead of admitting that his Master didn't care.

"And what happened then?"

"Mrs. Rowan asked Master again and again to sell me. They argued a lot about it. Then I ended up here."

"Are you still upset about the fact that Rowan gave you away?" House asked, really curious.

For the first time, Chase raised his head and looked straight into House's eyes.

"No, Sir, not at all."

His eyes were clear and honest.

"Good." House said. "Go, get me a coffee!"

As Chase hurried out House leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile on his face.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: A normal day**

Chase opened the office door a few minutes before six in the morning. He switched on the light but before he could close the door, someone called after him.

"Hey, Chase!"

He turned and bowed his head to the elderly doctor hurrying towards him.

"Good morning, Doctor Evans."

The head of surgery had operated on the Diagnostic Department's newest patient the day before. Doctor Evans was almost as famous as Doctor House and Chase had the luck to assist him with the patient in the OR.

"How's the patient doing?" the surgeon asked.

"He's much better. His temperature is down to 99.6, blood-pressure was 100/80, sats at 80, half an hour ago. He woke up during the night and was lucid."

"Good. I just wanted to tell you that you did very well yesterday. I might ask House to let you help out in surgeries from now on."

"Thank you, Doctor Evans."

"Tell House, that he owes me one" the doctor said with a smile.

"Yes, Sir" Chase agreed with a slight smile of his own.

He knew that Doctor House could care less that yesterday's surgery was risky as hell and there was no real evidence that the patient had something wrong with his liver, except a hunch of Doctor House. Anyway, he would of course give over the message.

Doctor Evans rushed away and Chase started his day. There was quite a mess in the office, because the last three days they had spent with figuring out what Mr. Reyes' problem was. There were books scattered around, notes everywhere and at least a dozen empty or half-empty mugs. Chase had been with the patient almost full-time and when not, he had been in the lab running tests. When Doctor House came up with the diagnosis yesterday afternoon, he was sent in to assist during the surgery and after that Doctor House told him to go rest but check on the patient every two hours. So, this was the first time he could take care of things in the department's rooms.

He collected the dirty mugs and washed them, then cleaned the board. He picked up all the books and notes, and cleaned Doctor House's desk. Doing that he found two rolled away Vicodine pills, those he left on the desk because Doctor House hated when any of his pills were wasted. He opened all the windows to vent the offices and looked out down to the parking lot watching the people come and go for a few moments until he started to shiver. It was much colder here than what he was used to, so in the last few weeks he started to wear long-sleeved T-shirts under his scrubs but still he got cold quickly. With a last glance outside, he closed the windows and then finished up Mr. Reyes' file.

The post was brought by at seven and they got a new medical journal - Diagnostic Molecular Pathology - and three letters from three different hospitals, probably asking for consults. Chase put the letters on Doctor House's desk, even though he was quite sure that they would end up in the trashcan quite soon. He pulled the journal from its bag and sat down with it at the glass-table to read it through. Doctor House subscribed to a lot of journals but most of them he never read. About two months ago he dropped a pack of journals in front of Chase, told him to read them through and make notes of every article. Since then Chase did the same thing with every new issue. Doctor House read the notes Chase had made and then took a closer look at the articles that peeked his interest.

Chase was in the middle of the first article with the title "Multiplex RT-PCR for detection of common BCR-ABL fusion transcripts in paraffin-embedded tissues from patients with chronic myeloid leukemia and acute lymphoblastic leukemia" when his beeper went off. It signaled that the two hours in which he needed to check on Mr. Reyes, was up. So he went to the patient's room. Mr. Reyes was awake and aware and his vitals were quite good, too.

Back in the office, he just started to read again when the phone rang.

"I'm at the race tracks" Doctor House said without preamble as soon as Chase answered. "I'll be in by lunch, so get me something to eat. Until noon you're free to do what you want to."

"Yes, Doctor House."

"Try to stay out of Cuddy's way" the diagnostician warned and then hung up.

After particularly hard cases it was common for Doctor House to stay away from the hospital for some time. Chase's guess was that Doctor House's mind just went into overdrive and he needed to relax. So, on these days he came in much later than usual or didn't come in at all. Chase tried to cover for his Master, which meant that he tried to be as invisible as possible so that he didn't have to answer Doctor Cuddy's questions.

The easiest way to stay out of the Dean's way was to look for Doctor Gardner – or any other doctor running the ICU, really – and spend his time working there. So he did just that until noon, monitoring patients. Then he went back to the office taking some money from the lunchbox, that Doctor House had started especially for these occasions and went to buy something for lunch.

By the time he arrived back, Doctor House was there, lying comfortably on the recliner in his office.

"Has Cuddy been by?" he asked and took the sandwich as Chase put the coffee down on the table.

"No, Sir, at least not while I was around."

"Good."

"Were you lucky, Sir?"

It seemed to Chase that Doctor House was in a very good mood so he dared to ask. When he was in the mood Doctor House enjoyed a conversation.

"Me winning, has nothing to do with luck. I have an unerring method. If you want to win, you mustn't just consider the horses, you have to watch out for the riders too. It is always obvious when one jockey is in a better form than the others. I'm gonna take you with me once."

Doctor House often said things like that and sometimes Chase even believed him. The doctor bit into the sandwich enthusiastically because tuna was his current favorite. Chase made sure to observe what Doctor House liked or disliked which wasn't easy because the doctor's tastes changed quite often. With his free hand, Doctor House pulled some banknotes from his jeans-pocket.

"Put these in the lunch box." House said. "Part of my win."

Chase stored the money away then stepped back to stand next to the door.

"Has something happened?" Doctor House asked between two bites.

"Doctor Evans came by in the morning, Doctor House. He left you the message that you owed him one."

"Ha! It's actually him that owes me. He should be thrilled that he was allowed to have a surgery like this. He probably will write an article about it or a book. Anyway, we'll see what he's going to say when he wants me to take his next incurable patient."

Chase smiled under his nose because he knew that Doctor House would say something like that.

"You also got three letters from three different hospitals, Sir."

"Probably asking for consult. Throw them out."

Chase did as he was told. Doctor House finished his sandwich and tossed the napkin next to the unopened letters into the trashcan. Chase picked up the coffee from the desk and gave it House.

"Did you have lunch?" House asked next.

Chase hasn't met any free citizens in his life who asked him about trivial things like that. Doctor House could be harsh, even cruel with his words sometimes but then out of nowhere asked something like this and that was one of the many reasons Chase would have done anything for the diagnostician. Chase would have never said that Doctor Rowan was a bad Master, Chase actually always considered himself lucky that he ended up with the doctor. But since he arrived at PPTH he slowly started to see his former life in a different light. He was taught from his early childhood that slaves were tools, in his case that meant that he was not much different from a scalpel… or considering his theoretical price in the market maybe he was more like an MRI machine. Here, though - even if it was thought that rarely crossed his mind – he was often handled like a human being.

"Yes, Sir." He answered.

"Good, then go to Wilson and ask for my prescription. Fill it in too. And pull down the shutters because I'm gonna take a nap, now."

"Yes, Doctor House."

By the time he pulled the drapes and left, Doctor House was already snoring lightly.

ooo

Doctor Wilson was someone who Chase couldn't place. Doctor House said – and not once – that the oncologist was an abolitionist but Chase was more or less convinced that was just a joke. He was sent to Doctor Wilson's office once a week because that was how often Doctor House needed a new prescription. Of course, the two doctors spent a lot of time together but more often than not Chase made himself scarce at those times, because he wasn't needed at those occasions and he didn't want to intrude.

He asked the assistant if he could go in, before knocking on Doctor Wilson's door. He stepped inside when he was allowed and waited for being addressed. Doctor Wilson never looked at him and usually spoke in half-words, so Chase tried to be extra-polite, but it seemed that nothing helped.

"Oh, it's you." Doctor Wilson said.

"Good afternoon, Sir." Chase felt the need to go down on his knees in a much more traditional greeting, but the only time he did that Doctor Wilson's face went red with anger, so Chase just jumped up and left as quickly as he could.

Without any questions, the oncologist was already finishing up the prescription.

"Here." he said without looking up.

Chase grabbed the piece of paper with his head still bowed and fled from the office.

On his way out he almost ran into Doctor Curtis who was an emeritus doctor working in pathology and was famous for his absent-mindedness.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Curtis" he greeted.

The doctor blinked at him through his glasses and then patted him on the back in a friendly gesture.

"Good that you are here! What's your name, again?"

"Chase, Sir."

"Oh, yes, Chase. I've lost a body somewhere, here are the papers" he pushed a pack of sheets in Chase's hand. "Look for the poor bastard please and bring him down to the morgue."

"Yes, Doctor Curtis."

It took him some time to find the lost body. Doctor Curtis picked up deceased patient from the ER but then somehow lost it and in the end Chase found the patient in front of an ICU room about half an hour later. He then went to the pharmacy where Miss Dickinson, the pharmacist in charge asked him to help with packing out some boxes of medicine. That took another half an hour, only after that could he fill in the prescription.

When he arrived back, Doctor House wasn't asleep anymore, because Doctor Cuddy was there and they were obviously arguing about something. Chase didn't want to disturb, so he stayed in the outer office. Even so, he could hear every word.

"It's not our day." Doctor House was saying.

"You don't have any patients." Doctor Cuddy countered.

"I need him."

"What for?"

"I'm working on an article."

"Bullshit!"

"It's going to appear in the Diagnostic's Journal."

"And which patient would it be about?"

"John Daniels."

"You never remember your patients' name." Doctor Cuddy was skeptical and with good reason.

"I started on the article and looked up his name."

"And why do you need Chase for an article?"

"He types quicker than I do."

"Right. Listen, I can't find anybody else this quickly and I don't want to send away the sick people. So, Chase runs the slave clinic today and that's an order."

Doctor House actually pouted at that.

"Okay" he said then, "but only until eight. At eight, I really need him."

"For?"

"I have a patient. I swear."

Chase didn't know of any patients, but after some hesitation Doctor Cuddy nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay" Doctor House said, too and then shouted so suddenly and so loud that Doctor Cuddy flinched. "Chase!"

"Yes, Master." Chase stepped inside immediately.

"You heard the boss."

"Yes, Sir."

"Come here for a second" Doctor House waved him closer and when Chase stepped closer he said in a half-whisper: "Miss Deluise' friend comes for a consult today. She will be here at eight, meet her in the lobby and bring her up."

"Yes, Doctor House."

Chase hoped that he didn't blush, because Miss Deluise was a prostitute who Doctor House had business with occasionally, so Chase was kind of sure that her friend had the same job, too. Doctor Cuddy watched them suspiciously but didn't say anything.

ooo

The slave-clinic was in the back of the hospital and consisted of two rooms: one examination room for the ambulant patients and one somewhat bigger room for those who needed inpatient care, even if it was nothing fancy. There was no waiting room, the examination room opened into the back-alley, where the patients could wait for their turn. Chase worked here one day a week, usually on Thursdays when theoretically Doctor House taught his course at the medical school, which he more often than not skipped.

First, Chase looked into the hospital room, but there were no patients currently. It was not uncommon, because in most cases the owner had to pay for the slave's stay, so it was considered a luxury that not many people thought important enough. The ambulant treatment was free, thanks to a foundation. Chase opened the examination room and started to carry out the plastic chairs. He found those in the basement, obviously too used for free people but Doctor Cuddy allowed him to bring them up here and so the sickest people could sit down while they waited for their turn.

Now, there were only five people waiting outside and Chase was kind of surprised. Last Thursday he had more than eighty patients and by the time he finished it was well over midnight.

"Hey, Doc!" one of the waiting patients, a young man greeted him.

"I'm not a doctor, Brian."

"I know." The man grinned and Chase knew that he will continue to call him doc. It started to be a custom amongst the patients, who mostly came from the nearby slave community. It was a small village in the middle of Princeton where the majority of those slaves lived who belonged to different institutions and not to households.

"I guess you don't have to wait as long as last time." Chase said.

"I surely would, if the others knew you had a shift. But Doctor Baker was listed for today and folks don't like him very much."

Chase knew of course that most doctors felt that working in the slave-clinic was a burden. He heard them complaining often enough. Doctor Cuddy was one of the few doctors who handled it like a special humanitarian project. Chase was always happy to work here, helping out his own kind. He often thought about ways to improve things– hence the chairs – and he also liked the fact that he was mostly left here to his own devices. Doctor Cuddy came down sometimes but never stayed long.

"Okay, who was here first?" he asked and a middle-aged woman raised her hand.

ooo

With so few patients Chase easily finished before eight, he even had time to do some cleaning and organizing. At eight he was in the lobby, waiting somewhat nervously for Doctor House's guest. He was sure that Doctor House only sent him to pick this lady up, because he knew that situations like these made him anxious.

Although, he never met this particular woman before, he recognized her as soon as she stepped inside. She was in her late thirties and she was slim, pretty with beautiful long and curly hair, just the type Doctor House loved.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Are you Miss Deluise' friend?"

She looked at him with surprise then laughed out.

"You must be Chase" she exclaimed. "Gabrielle was right, you are a real cutie. And if she knew that you call her Miss… "

She laughed again and to Chase's utter horror she good-naturedly grabbed his ass. He tried to move away politely but unfortunately she followed.

"Doesn't your master allow you to participate in the fun?"

"I don't think so, Ma'am" Chase tried not to fidget too much.

"Maybe I'll ask him. I like my boys with a tight ass, just like yours. I would do you for free in front of your master. I'm sure he would like that."

"Please, Ma'am…" Chase started to object but the woman cut him off.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm just joking, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble."

Chase was sure that Doctor House would really like this one.

ooo

Chase glimpsed at the clock on the opposite wall. It was almost ten. The corridors were mostly abandoned but once in a while nurses and a few doctors went by and they all looked at him curiously, but until now nobody asked why he was standing in front of the door to Doctor House's office. All the blinds were closed, and fortunately, none of the passer-bys heard the noises from inside the office, either, or at least nobody commented. Chase has been listening to those noises almost two hours now, though and they were unmistakable.

They were actually just as unmistakable as the knocking of high-heeled shoes from the end of the corridor. Chase shuddered and started to pray silently: _Make her go in one of the patients' rooms… _But he wasn't that lucky.

"What are you doing here?_" _Doctor Cuddy asked as soon as she saw him.

"Good evening, Doctor Cuddy" he said instead of answering immediately.

"Well?"

"I'm waiting for Doctor House, Ma'am."

Loud, female laugh could be heard from the other side of the door.

"You are trying to tell me that his patient is still here?"

"Yes, Ma'am…"

"And they are laughing about her condition?"

"It's…"

"You don't have to lie to cover for House" Doctor Cuddy cut in.

""You are wrong about that, he actually has to" Doctor House said suddenly from behind them, opening the office-door. "But he's not very good at it" he added with a light tap over the back of Chase's head.

Doctor Cuddy looked at the diagnostician and Chase used the opportunity to get out of the way, so he stepped to the other side of the corridor. From there he could see that Doctor House looked kind of disheveled, with his belt open and his shirt mis-buttoned. The woman whose name Chase never found out, appeared next to the doctor, and kissed him on his cheek.

"Call me any other time" she said and slid out, rubbing herself against the diagnostician. "Next time maybe, you could let your boy join us."

Chase blushed again, but fortunately nobody looked at him. Doctor House and Doctor Cuddy were staring each-other down and the hooker was leaving quickly.

"You can't welcome prostitutes in the hospital" the Dean sounded extremely angry.

"Well, I just did, so I obviously can. And I have to tell you, she was a devil."

Doctor Cuddy turned and pointed at Chase:

"Next time, you come to me and tell if House is doing this." She said, then turned on her heels and rushed away.

"Next time, you have to be more convincing." Doctor House said.

Chase just hoped that the next time wouldn't be too soon.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

****Here's the next chapter, I hope you will enjoy it, let me know what you think! Thank you for reading.

**Chapter 9: Cameron**

Allison Cameron looked for the right room, nervously pulling at the sleeve of her blouse. Since she got the phone-call yesterday morning that she should appear for an interview with the famous diagnostician, Doctor Gregory House, she has been anxious. It was a dream job for her but she had already given up on it as it's been almost five months since she sent in her application. Anyway, this was a huge opportunity and she wanted to make the best impression possible. The receptionist said fourth floor… _Oh, there it is! _

The Diagnostics Department was a glass-block and she could clearly see that Doctor House's office was empty. In the adjoining office, though, there was a guy, obviously a hospital employee, judging by the scrubs he was wearing. He was sitting at a conference table, bending over it, probably reading something. She couldn't see his face, but he was clearly younger than a possible department head. She knocked and then walked in the door.

The guy jumped up, looked at her then bowed his head. He was blonde and quite handsome. He was also a slave, wich fact was clearly shown by the thin, white collar around his neck.

"How can I help you, Ma'am?" he asked in an accent that Cameron guessed was British. It sounded extremely strange from a slave, Cameron has always thought that British accent sounded aristocratic and it didn't a slave's his humble posture at all.

"I'm Doctor Allison Cameron and I have an appointment with Doctor House." she said.

"Doctor House told me that you were coming, Ma'am, but unfortunately he got delayed. He told me to ask you to wait for him, if that's not an inconvenience."

"Oh, of course, I can wait."

He pulled out a chair for her at the glass-table.

"Please, take a seat, Ma'am."

Cameron sat down and saw that there were a few patients' charts on the table and the slave had obviously been working on those before Cameron arrived. He didn't sit back down, though.

"Can I bring you something, Doctor Cameron? Coffee or tea, maybe?" he asked after she sat down.

"A tea would be nice, thanks."

Maybe it would calm her down a little bit. She saw that the man's eyes flickered at her for a second, maybe in curiosity, but he averted them just as quickly and walked over to the small counter to make tea. When he put down the mug in front of her a few minutes later, he just stepped back again.

"I see you were in the middle of working, I don't want to hold you up in your chores."

He looked up hesitantly, obviously considering if she meant it.

"Just sit down." she encouraged him.

"Thank you, Doctor Cameron."

In the next half an hour Cameron watched as the young man was working on the charts with an ease that could only stem from years of practice. Every once in a while he threw covert glances at her. He was really subtle about it but Cameron had nothing else to do than watch him, so she noticed.

"Are you Doctor House's assistant?" she asked, mostly because she couldn't stand the silence anymore.

When addressed, the slave stood up immediately.

"Yes, Ma'am, that's my main job."

"What else do you do?"

"I help out in other departments. ICU's mainly, sometimes in surgeries."

"Oh."

She couldn't think of other questions right now, so he waved at the man to sit down again. A few minutes later, though she asked another question:

"What is Doctor House like?"

The slave jumped up again.

"He is a real genius, Ma'am, the best diagnostician in the US."

Cameron saw that she wouldn't get any personal information, so she changed the topic.

"Does Doctor House do many job interviews?"

"He did about fifty since I'm here."

"And how long is that?"

"Seven months, Ma'am."

"Fifty interviews in seven months? And how many fellows did he hire?"

"Six, Ma'am."

"So, Doctor House has six fellows already?"

"No, Ma'am. He has none at the moment."

"None?" she asked back surprised.

"None of the hired fellows stayed longer than two weeks, Ma'am."

"Why is that?"

"They say it isn't easy to work for Doctor House, Ma'am."

"And why's that?"

"It's not my place to judge that, Ma'am. Doctor House is a very good Master."

The slave's face was unreadable, so she couldn't decide whether he told the truth or just didn't want to get into trouble, but his words made her feel even more nervous. She heard a lot of rumors about Doctor House, but so many employees who couldn't handle working for him? It wasn't very promising.

She wanted to ask more questions but the door opened and a short but very authoritative looking woman hurried in. Cameron didn't think it possible, but suddenly the slave looked even more subdued than before.

"Where's House?" the woman asked without greeting or looking at Cameron.

"I don't know, Doctor Cuddy."

"Is he in the hospital?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

The woman – Doctor Cuddy, who Cameron had already heard about and knew that she was the Dean of Medicine here – looked at the slave with suspicion.

"When did he arrive?"

"A few minutes after eight, Ma'am."

"You are getting better at this, but I still don't believe you. When he arrives, tell him that I want to see him."

"Yes, Doctor Cuddy. I'm sorry, Ma'am."

"Yeah-yeah." she waved it away and only after that did she realize that there was somebody else in the room too. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you. Are you Doctor Cameron?"

"Yes, I am."

"I'm Lisa Cuddy" she said, offering her hand. "I've read your resume, it's very impressive and we are in big need of an immunologist."

"Thank you."

"What time did House ask you here for?"

"Thirty past nine."

Cuddy looked at the clock and Cameron did the same, seeing that it was already past ten. Then the older woman turned back to the slave.

"Chase?"

The man looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

"When is House going to arrive?" she asked.

"He told me to bring lunch for Doctor Cameron at noon" he said quietly.

"Where is he?"

"I'm sorry, but I really don't know."

"Call him!" Cuddy ordered.

"But I'm only allowed to call him in emergencies…" he glanced up at the Dean of Medicine worriedly.

"Who do you belong to?" Cuddy asked strictly.

"To the hospital, Doctor Cuddy."

"And who leads this hospital?"

"You do, Ma'am. I'm sorry."

"Then call him and tell him that I want him here doing this interview in half an hour."

"Yes, Doctor Cuddy."

He bowed his head and hurried into the other office and Cameron saw as he picked up the phone. Cuddy watched him too and sighed.

"I'm sorry for this. House will be here, I guarantee that. Good luck with him!"

And with that she left without Cameron being able to say anything else. The slave – Chase, she reminded herself – was already coming back, looking very apologetic.

"Is he coming?" Cameron asked.

"Yes, he is. I'm sorry, Ma'am. If I offended you, please tell me and I'll ask Doctor House to punish me for it" he said and it was the longest he spoke but also the most ridiculous thing.

"It wasn't your fault. What could you have done against it?"

He didn't say anything to that.

"So, you belong to the hospital, not to House?"

"Yes, Ma'am, but Doctor House is my main superior."

"I'm sorry, if you got into trouble because of this" she offered.

He looked up and actually smiled at that. And he was cute when he was smiling, Cameron noticed.

"It's my fault if I get in trouble, not yours, Ma'am."

She sat back down, while Chase took her empty mug and washed it at the counter. Before he could sit again though, the neighboring office's door burst open and a middle-aged man with a cane limped in.

"Chase!" he called immediately and the slave hurried into the other room, closing the door behind himself.

She watched curiously as Doctor House told something and the slave answered, but she couldn't make out what they were talking about. House glimpsed at her and looked really grumpy. It seemed to her as if he was snapping at the slave because the younger man lowered his head, looking ashamed. Then after a few moments Chase came out again.

"Doctor House is awaiting you now, Doctor Cameron" he said.

She walked by him to the door and when they were in line, the slave whispered:

"Don't let him intimidate you, it's just a test."

ooo

Cameron had to admit that House could be frightening when he wanted to be and sometimes also when he didn't want to.

During the interview, he played a game of minds and thanks to Chase's warning she managed to get through the half an hour without breaking down. Ten minutes were spent in total silence, the other twenty with irritatingly sexist questions about her hair color, breasts and IQ. But in the end she was accepted for the job. She just hasn't decided yet, whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

The first four weeks they had five patients and House was really a genius when it came to diagnose the sick and also when it came to find out people's secrets. And he could be quite cruel when he confronted people with those secrets. Especially when he was in pain, or simply was without Vicodine for too long. At those times he didn't recon whether the one he insulted was a patient, a relative or a fellow doctor.

Fortunately, in the department Chase took the burnt of House's mood-swings. Somehow, Chase seemed to be able to sense when House was bad off and was always there for him to vent his anger on. Every insult, being shout or grumbled, he took with a quiet and stoic 'Yes, Sir' or 'I'm sorry, Doctor House' or some other version of the same. He was also good at bringing by a new bottle of pills every time House ran out of them. So, to put it simply, without the slave Cameron wouldn't have stayed longer than a few weeks, she was sure about it.

So, all in all she was grateful to Chase, but it still took Cameron almost five weeks to ask what was on her mind since that first day. She knew by then, that she would stay and she got to know Chase enough to realize that what he had done before the interview wasn't something he normally did.

„Why did you help me?"

They were in the outer office. Cameron was just sitting there, relaxing, sipping at a mug of tea and reading over a medical journal, because they diagnosed their latest patient and she was out of their department now, so she had nothing else to do. Chase was cleaning out the fridge. Cameron already noticed that the slave was always doing something, even if nobody asked him. It seemed he simply couldn't stay put for no amount of time. They haven't seen House since lunch.

Chase looked up at the question with a slight look of surprise.

„It's my job to help out with the patients" he said.

„I didn't mean that" Cameron explained. „With the interview."

Chase actually blushed at that. Chase could keep up the mask of emotionless slave but this question seemed to embarrass him. Averting his eyes, he said:

„I don't know, Doctor Cameron."

„I won't tell it anybody, I'm just curious. It seems to me that you've never done that before."

He shook his head.

„I haven't… and probably I shouldn't have intervened. It wasn't my place… but you seemed really nice, Doctor Cameron."

He quickly turned back to the fridge after that, and Cameron smiled.

„I would have failed if you hadn't told me what you did" she admitted. „So thank you."

Chase just nodded without looking back again, but Cameron could see that his ears got even redder. She smiled under her nose and turned back to the journal, satisfied with the answer she got.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry for the delay, I knew I promised to post on Monday or Tuesday but I went to union-outing yesterday and it lasted much longer than expected. But this is a new chapter again. Kind of a one-shot, I guess. I hope you enjoy!

**Interlude 2 – A bad night**

It's been a long three days. Doctor House managed to come up with a valid diagnosis this morning but before that, the department had spent about 72 hours with brainstorming. They've started the new treatment recently and while Doctor Cameron went home to rest, Chase was sent to monitor the patient. After four hours the patient's condition improved remarkably and Chase decided it was time to report to Doctor House.

He went up to the office and prepared himself to call a moody and tired Doctor House at home but to his amazement the head of diagnostics was still in. Through the glass-wall Chase could clearly see his lanky form, slumped in the chair, behind his desk. Both his feet were up on the table, his head hung back and his long arms hung limply next to the armrests.

Chase walked in quietly but despite his best intentions, Doctor House raised his head as soon as Chase closed the door. Though, he moved, he looked anything but aware. His eyes were confused and his pupils were so narrow that they could barely be seen.

„I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't want to wake you." Chase said.

„Wasn't sleeping" House's words slurred a bit.

Chase noticed that Doctor House has taken more of his pills today than usual, actually an amount that would probably kill a normal person. There was also a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the desk, now.

„Was I right?" Doctor House asked, trying to sit up straighter, with not much success.

„Yes, Sir. Mrs. Wilkins is much better. Her latest blood-test was almost normal."

„Good." House managed to pull his legs to the ground but grimaced in pain. „I'll sleep here today." he decided.

Chase saw that the doctor wouldn't be able to stand up alone, so he stepped closer and bent some to provide leverage. House pushed against him and Chase helped him up, then he practically carried his Master over to the couch.

„I'm gonna need a change of clothes for tomorrow." House said as he slumped on the furniture with a sigh.

„Yes, Sir."

Chase knelt down and raised the doctor's legs up onto the couch, then took out the pillow and blanket from the cupboard. By the time he put the blanket around Doctor House, his Master was already snoring.

Chase put away the bottle of alcohol, turned off the light and left the office. He only needed to get a pass to leave now.

ooo

It turned out that Doctor Cuddy wasn't in, so Chase took a look at the schedule. To his luck Doctor Harrington was the senior on staff, head of ER. Chase worked a lot there, so he knew the elderly doctor. He hurried to the ER but it was crowded and instead of getting his pass, Chase soon was helping out the nurses.

It took almost two hours to find Doctor Harrington unoccupied, so he could explain what he needed. The doctor quickly wrote a pass for him, but then there were some IV's to be administered and two patients had to be taken up to the third floor, so it was almost midnight by the time he could leave the ER.

ooo

Before leaving the hospital, Chase went back to the office to check on Doctor House. The doctor was still sleeping, but quite restlessly. His breathing was quick, and he was sweltering. Chase put his fingers against the carotid, the pulse was regular if a little slow.

The touch awakened Doctor House and he jerked.

"I'm sorry, Master. It's just me." Chase said quietly.

"I'm gonna puke." Doctor House said and Chase quickly pulled the trash-can closer and held it while his Master retched.

When even the dry-heaving subsided, he helped Doctor House to lie back, then went and brought back a glass of water. He also needed to help drinking it.

He then cleaned the trash-can.

"Sir?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine, go rest." Doctor House said.

"I'm going to get you some spare clothes, Doctor House. I'll leave the trash-can here, if you need it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I'm fine."

Chase watched his Master worriedly for a few more minutes but it seemed that Doctor House slept in again. So, Chase filled up the glass with water, left it next to the couch and put the trash-can at arm's reach, too.

Then he left.

ooo

Doctor House didn't live far by car but as Chase had no right to drive a car on his own and he also wasn't allowed on public transportation. So, he had to walk and so it took about one and a half hours even if he took all the shortcuts he knew. The streets were empty and it was quite cold for early September, especially when about half an hour into his walk it started to rain. His thin hospital clothing soon got drenched and he was shivering constantly.

He was only a few corners from his destination when he could hear a car behind him and then lights were on him and in a second sirens went off. It was a police patrol and Chase stopped immediately. The car stopped and both officers got out, one pointing a flashlight at Chase's face, so that he was practically blinded.

"Get out your pass!" he heard the order and quickly pulled the paper from his pocket, praying that the rain didn't ruin it too much.

One officer took it, the other turned the flashlight away, at last and took out a small scanner from his inner pocket.

"Kneel" he ordered as he stepped closer.

Chase did as he was told, his already wet pants getting even more drenched as he knelt into a deep puddle. He bowed his head and waited patiently while the officer held the scanner to his collar.

"He belongs to the Princeton Plainsborough Hospital." the officer said to his partner.

"The pass is from a doctor there, but I'll check it. Keep an eye on him."

The officer stepped up to the car and started to speak into his radio. Chase stayed kneeling and waited patiently. He knew that his papers were in order and that he was no escapee, but police checks always made him nervous. Every other slave he knew felt the same way, because you could never know what would tick off a bored law enforcement officer. Back in Australia, he had been taken to the pit once, because the signature on his pass hadn't exactly matched the registered one (no matter that Doctor Rowan couldn't have sign his name the same way twice even if his life depended on it). Of course, that was not long after the uprising so everything was different back then.

It took quite a time for the officer to confirm the validity of his pass and Chase felt the coldness of the rain seep into his bones. His teeth were chattering loudly by the time the officer came back.

"The hospital confirmed his pass. Stand up." he said to Chase, who obeyed immediately. The pass was pushed into his hand. "Get lost!"

"Thank you, Sir." Chase bowed his head and hurried away as fast as he could.

ooo

He's been to Doctor House's home a few times before – always under similar circumstances, when Doctor House was too out of it to go home, but he needed something. He collected a set of clothing (underwear, jeans, a t-shirt and because it seemed to get cold enough for that, the leather jacket), then searched for a bag to put everything in it.

He quickly cleaned up the small puddles he left on the floor and started his walk back to the hospital.

By the time he arrived back it was four in the morning and despite the bag Doctor House's clothes got wet, as it was still heavily raining.

He checked on Doctor House – and he seemed to be resting more calmly now – and then he went down to the basement, to the hospital's laundry room.

"Oh, Gosh!" Donna, one of the slaves working in the laundry exclaimed when she saw Chase. "Have you fallen into a swimming pool?"

"I went to bring spare clothes for Doctor House, it's pouring outside. I need to dry Doctor House's clothes."

"You need to dry yourself, too" Donna said. "You can use the last dryer in this row. I'll bring you a towel."

By the time Chase put the clothes in for a quick program, Donna was back with not one but two towels and a pair of scrubs. He dried himself as much as he could, changed his wet clothes and put the second towel over his shoulders. He then laid down on the floor, his back against the dryer, so he could feel when it was ready and slept in immediately.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

****AN: Until now every chapter took place pre-series, with this one we arrived at the pilot episode, there are some dialogues that are taken from the episode. Those are even less mine, than anything else. I hope you enjoy and again, please let me know what you think.

I will be away for a long weekend (as we national holiday here), so next chapter comes on Wednesday the earliest, but as that will be my first back at work, I wouldn't exactly bet on it.

**Pilot**

Wilson was irritatingly obstinate about this patient: 29 year old woman, lost the ability to speak, deterionating mental status – probably brain tumor. And Wilson was insisting that she was his cousin. He also insisted that she didn't have brain tumor. House suspected that the first statement was just a bluff – and he would find evidence of that soon enough. The second one might be true, though, Wilson was an oncologist after all. And he was right about another thing too: They haven't had a patient since Foreman joined the team two weeks ago.

House didn't really care that the overqualified – as Wilson put it - doctors on his team, were bored without a case. Cameron, actually could occupy herself very well when the department was out of work – she volunteered in the clinic and answered old e-mails. Chase, of course, was never without work and he wasn't an overqualified doctor, either. Foreman really seemed bored and also on edge. He probably thought this was some kind of test. In a way, he was right too because everything was a test. But maybe it was time to start a new test and see how Foreman would work on an actual case.

He bitched some more about stupid patients and then took the file.

ooo

He was waiting for the elevator to get up in the office when from the corner of his eyes he saw his nemesis approaching.

"I was expecting you in my office twenty minutes ago" she started.

"Really? That's odd, because I had no intention to be in your office twenty minutes ago."

Cuddy was all bossy again and that was strangely funny, annoying and… well, kind of hot, he had to admit.

"We have to talk" she insisted.

"I beg to differ."

The elevator arrived, thank God.

"Wait!" she said when he stepped forward.

"Or what? You take away my cane?"

"No, that would be juvenile" she declared but followed him in the elevator.

"Chase is in the clinic" was her next sentence.

"Thanks for telling, I thought I lost him in the parking lot."

"He can't do your clinic hours."

"Why? Is he sick? Or did he break an arm?"

"You know damn well why. He's not a doctor and he's not qualified to treat patients alone."

"And you know damn well, that's stupid. I don't remember him making any mistakes since he's here. Most patients in the clinic could be diagnosed by a monkey, anyway."

"Chase is not a monkey" Cuddy admonished.

"Did I say that? No, he's more capable than most doctors in this hospital. Though now that I think about it, most doctors are not on a much higher level than a clever monkey."

Cuddy frowned and sighed. He was winning. Again.

"Anyway, due to your contract you have to do four hours a week in the clinic. You. Not Chase."

"Sorry. I have a very sick patient."

The woman looked at him with suspicion and he showed her the file.

"I want you to do your job, House!"

"Well, like the philosopher Jagger once said: you can't always get what you want."

And with a grin he got out of the elevator.

ooo

In the office he found Cameron at the computer and Foreman at the glass-table reading something.

"Hellooo, children! I brought you something to play with" he said and dropped the file on the table.

They both looked up and he turned to Cameron.

"Page Chase too."

While Cameron dialed Chase's pager-number House wrote the symptoms on the board. And put up the CT scans too, then sat down.

"There's a lesion" Foreman commented on the CT.

"Shh" House hushed him.

"Aren't we supposed to diagnose this patient?" the new doctor asked perplexed.

"We are waiting" House said.

"What are we waiting for?" Foreman asked.

"For Chase to arrive, of course" House said.

"Does he have more information?"

"He's part of the team, too" it was Cameron who said it, before House could.

Foreman raised an eyebrow skeptically. House didn't like that. Since Chase was around House watched all his aspiring fellows how they handled the department's slave. It showed a lot about people how they behaved towards someone who was deeply under them in rank. Also, Chase was the longest lasting member of his team and if somebody couldn't work with him then it wasn't Chase who House was going to send away. Until now Cameron was the only one who passed this test.

Chase slipped in fifteen minutes later and sat down on the chair in the corner. In the last two weeks he favored that place to the glass table. That was something that bothered House when it came to Foreman, too. Chase was a good judge of character, House saw him enough times to change behavior in a second when he worked with specific doctors and with Foreman he played for secure, staying out of the younger doctor's way. It was somewhat discomforting for House to see that.

Still not caring for Foreman's impatient look, he nailed Chase with a cutting glance, pointing at him with his cane.

"Cuddy called me to account because she found you at the clinic" he said.

Chase stood up and looked appropriately contrite.

"I'm sorry, Doctor House" he said.

"What did you tell her?"

"Nothing, Master."

The boy could look sheepish like hell when he said things like that and no matter how hard he tried, House couldn't train him out of it.

"So you are telling me that she found you in the clinic and you just stared at her silently" he translated dryly.

"Well, I greeted her of course."

"Was that supposed to be sarcastic?" House asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, Master" Chase averted his eyes but couldn't hide his slight smile.

It was House's own fault, of course. He told the slave that he shouldn't tell anything to Cuddy because he still couldn't lie properly and it was better to stay quiet than stammer out transparent lies.

"Next time tell her that I stepped out for a second and that you were there just to assist me."

"Yes, Master."

"And try to look not-guilty when you say that."

"Yes, Master."

House didn't have much hope that this would work but it was worth a try and it was the best he could come up with right now.

"Can we start now?" Foreman cut in.

"Patience is a virtue, you know… but be it" he pointed at the CT scan. "So, what do we see here?" he asked looking straight at Foreman.

"It's a lesion" the black doctor said with a frown.

"And the big green thing in the middle of the bigger blue thing on a map is an island. I was hoping for something a bit more creative." He wasn't really. At least not on the first case but he had to push to get reactions.

"Shouldn't we be speaking to the patient before we start diagnosing?" Foreman didn't look disturbed by the comment but they've just started.

"Is she a doctor?"

"No, but…" Foreman tried but House didn't let him finish.

"Everybody lies" he declared.

Foreman looked somewhat stunned now. Cameron – always eager to deflect conflicts – cut in:

"Doctor House doesn't like dealing with patients."

"Isn't treating patients why we became doctors?"

Oh, that was the most common misconception of every doctor.

"No, treating _illnesses_ is why we became doctors, treating patients is what makes most doctors miserable."

"So you're trying to eliminate the humanity from the practice of medicine."

"If you don't talk to them they can't lie to us, and we can't lie to them. Humanity is overrated. I don't think it's a tumor."

"First year of medical school if you hear hoof beets you think "horses" not "zebras"."

"Are you in first year of medical school? No. First of all, there's nothing on the CAT scan. Second of all, if this is a horse then the kindly family doctor in Trenton makes the obvious diagnosis and it never gets near this office. Differential diagnosis, people: if it's not a tumor what are the suspects? Why couldn't she talk? I bet Chase, here can tell us something more intriguing. Chase?"

By now the slave got used to speak up during their brainstormings, but House was sure that with the new doctor around he would stay quiet until he was addressed directly.

"Aneurysm, stroke, or some other ischemic syndrome, Sir."

Yeah, those were probable suggestions.

"Get her a contrast MRI."

"Creutzfeld-Jakob disease" was Cameron's idea, another nice one.

"Mad zebra… I like that" House commented and that put an almost-smug smile on the female doctor's face.

"Wernicke's encephalopathy?" Foreman said. He looked a little bit intimidated now, but not much, far from enough in House's opinion.

"No, blood thiamine level was normal."

"Lab in Trenton could have screwed up the blood test. I assume it's a corollary if people lie, that people screw up."

House actually had to smirk at that – Foreman started to get the point, after all!

"Re-draw the blood tests. And get her scheduled for that contrast MRI ASAP. Let's find out what kind of zebra we're dealing with here."

ooo

Cameron hasn't decided yet, whether she liked Foreman or not. She tried to be friendly and the new doctor wasn't unfriendly, either but he kept his distance. And of course, until now they didn't exactly had to _work_ together because they had no actual work to do. She guessed, that it would be good to have an equal workmate, though. Chase was very helpful and Cameron honestly liked him, but when it came to standing up to House in some subject he was naturally no help.

They were walking to their patients' room now, Foreman and Cameron next to eachother and Chase two steps behind them. The slave had already grabbed a blood-kit and a wheelchair on the way, so they were prepared to do the tests except maybe Foreman who looked distressed, no doubt because of House's former manner.

"You don't have to take it personally, House is often like that" she said encouragingly.

"Don't worry. I've had worse" Foreman said.

Cameron threw a skeptical look at him.

"Well, not from superiors, obviously" he admitted. "Are the meetings always like this?"

"More or less."

"I've never seen slaves taking part in a medical conversation."

Cameron looked back at Chase, before she answered. He wasn't looking at them but he was close enough to hear every word they said. Cameron thought that he had low self-esteem even without being put down by their new team member, so she cut in.

"As far as I experienced, Chase stands his grounds in every situation. And as I heard, he's the first person who has worked for House longer than a month."

"Well, not that he has much of a choice… But isn't this dangerous? I mean what if he makes a mistake? Who takes responsibility for that?" Foreman asked.

Cameron didn't know the answer for that and honestly she has never thought about it before.

"He hasn't made mistakes until now" she said somewhat defensively to which Foreman just frowned.

"Hopkins Teaching Hospital had many slaves but they worked only as nurse assistants."

"So you went to Hopkins? That's impressive."

"Yeah. I've worked hard enough for it" Foreman said and Cameron realized that if Foreman was this kind of elite then he wouldn't be just a good ally but also a big rival.

ooo

Rebecca Adler was Cameron's age and would have been pretty if she hadn't looked so sick. Her eyes were closed but when Cameron closed the door behind them she looked up.

"Good afternoon, Miss Adler" she said.

She nodded in greeting and looked at them curiously.

"Are you my new doctor? Doctor House?" she asked, looking at Foreman.

"No way" the male doctor smirked. "I'm Doctor Foreman."

"And I'm Doctor Cameron" she said. "Doctor House is the head of diagnostic medicine. He's very busy, but he has taken a keen interest in your case."

"Do you know what's wrong with me?" their patient asked in her tired voice.

"Not yet, that's why we need to do some tests. Chase here," Cameron waved the slave forward, "is taking a blood-sample and then we take you to do an MRI."

In the end they didn't do the MRI. Not that they didn't want to, but the operator simply didn't allow them in. So, half an hour later they were waiting in front of Cuddy's office and they were listening to House shouting at the dean of medicine. Cameron and Foreman came here immediately after notifying House and taking Rebecca back to her room. House was already here by that time. Doctor Wilson joined them ten minutes later, Cameron didn't know how he found out that he would be needed here, and then Chase arrived too, on his way back from the lab. He stopped a little bit further from the doctors and was just standing there with an unreadable expression.

After some more shouting, the voices from the office went quieter and Cameron couldn't make out anymore what was being said. Then they saw House turn briskly and he came out with a scowl. Cameron shivered at the sight: House was clearly in a dangerous mood and he could be very nasty when he was like that.

"I hope you really like this cousin of yours" he growled at Doctor Wilson. "Because now I have to do four hours a week in the clinic just to make a simple test on her."

He started to hurry away but when he was in line with Chase, he stopped and poked the slave in the stomach with his cane.

"This is partly your fault, you know."

"I'm sorry, Doctor House."

"Well, it doesn't really help me that you're sorry, does it? But you can go and do the MRI" he said, waving at Cameron and Foreman's general direction.

"That was really interesting" Foreman said after House disappeared.

"It was worse than usual" Cameron agreed. "Let's do the MRI before he starts to miss us."

Foreman started to walk away but Cameron looked at Chase who seemed very humbled, so she stayed behind to talk to him.

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

"If my Master says it's my fault, then it is" Chase said dispassionately.

"That's stupid" Cameron declared.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Cameron."

She frowned at him but couldn't think of anything to say and before she could come up with something Foreman shouted at them from the end of the corridor.

"Are you coming, or what?"

The men of the Diagnostic Department were all insufferable in different ways, she decided.

ooo

Erik Foreman watched through the glass as the department's slave helped their patient onto the table of the MRI machine, while Cameron was explaining how the test worked. The female doctor seemed too idealistic to be a really good doctor. Foreman firmly believed that you had to keep a distance to be professional. He hasn't known Cameron long but someone who got so emotionally attached to a slave, obviously wasn't able to stay objective about anything.

Cameron and Chase joined him a few seconds later and Cameron started the scanning after she warned Rebecca to stay still. For a moment they watched the screen in silence but then their patient's voice could be heard over the intercom.

"I don't feel so good."

"It's all right. Just try to relax" Foreman told her, but Cameron bent over the microphone worriedly.

"Rebecca?" there was no answer. "Rebecca?" and then more forcefully: "Rebecca! Get her out of there."

"Aren't you overreacting a bit?" Foreman grumbled, but it was in vain because Chase, following Cameron's order, was already stopping the machine and their patient slowly appeared, choking.

"She's having an allergic reaction to gadolinium; she'll be dead in two minutes" Cameron said already at the patient's side, just like Foreman himself.

"Hold her neck" he said.

"Oh, she's ashen" Cameron said while she tried to hold their patient immobile.

"She's not breathing. Epi point five" he injected the medicine and Cameron started to bag her.

"Come on, I can't ventilate" she reported.

"Too much edema, where's the surgical airway kit?" Foreman grumbled.

"It's here, Sir" Chase appeared suddenly next to Cameron – and until now Foreman hasn't even noticed that he wasn't there -, and he had the surgical kit with him.

Chase threw a quick glance at Cameron, who nodded and then the slave quickly and amazingly professionally cut into Rebecca's neck and they got her bagged in seconds. Foreman had worked around slaves before but has never seen one doing something this complicated but it also brought up more doubts in him which he decided to settle as soon as possible. So, after they took Rebecca back to her room, he waited until Cameron left but stopped Chase at the door.

"Wait, I want to talk to you for a second!" he said.

"Yes, Sir?" the slave turned back immediately.

"You did a good job in there" Foreman said.

"Thank you, Sir."

One thing was sure: Chase was much more respectful than the other slaves Foreman has met so far.

"Where did you learn that?"

"My former Master taught me."

"Who was that? Does he work here, in the hospital?"

"No, Sir. It was Doctor Robert Rowan. He lives in Australia."

"The rheumatologist?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And he sold you to House?"

"No, Sir. Doctor Rowan gave me to the hospital the last time he visited here."

"Gave you? As in a gift?"

"Yes, Sir."

"That's strange, isn't it? Did you kill a patient in Australia or what?"

The slave stood motionless until now, his head lowered a little bit, so that he avoided eye-contact as it was proper, now though he looked up for a second, but Foreman couldn't read the feelings in his face.

"No, Sir. I just…" then he trailed off, and lowered his eyes again, even his hair fell forward in his face obscuring his expression totally.

"You just? If you are the hospital's property, then you have to obey every doctors' orders, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then tell me why your Master gave you away! And raise your head so I can see whether you're lying or not!"

Chase obeyed without hesitation, his eyes fixed at Foreman's shoulder-line now.

"I don't know, Sir."

His face didn't show much emotion, but there was something in his voice that told Foreman that this wasn't true.

"You're lying!" he raised his voice. "You know what the punishment is, when a slave lies to a free citizen!"

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

Chase looked like he wanted to fall to the knees or show some other sign of submission, in the end he just dropped his head low again.

"Your head! And I'm waiting for your answer!"

"It wasn't… it had nothing to do with my work, Sir. I swear" he raised his head quickly sounding pathetic but Foreman didn't relent.

"Let me decide that! You have five seconds" Foreman didn't know for sure what he would do if he doesn't get an answer. In Hopkins he would have gone to a slave inspector who would have taken care of the punishment but here he didn't meet other slaves so he suspected there weren't inspectors either. The obvious choice would have been going to House but it seemed that House was biased towards Chase, so Cuddy seemed to be the only option. In the end he didn't need to worry about that, though, because Chase started to speak quickly but quietly.

"Doctor Rowan got married and Mrs. Rowan wanted services from me that I couldn't provide without being disloyal to my Master" his ears got so red that Forman had no doubts what kind of services he was talking about.

"Oh" he said somewhat stupidly because he had no idea what to say to that.

"Mrs. Rowan then gave an ultimatum for Master: he either makes me vanish or she moves out" Chase finished.

"I see" Foreman felt a little bit bad now that he forced this confession from the slave because the young man looked miserable, but he couldn't endanger his own authority with telling that openly. "I'm gonna still watch your performance" he said instead. "You can leave now!"

"Thank you, Sir" Chase bowed and left the room.

ooo

After the failed MRI House decided that he still wanted them to talk to the patient and get a full medical history. Foreman frowned at it but did as he was told. It wouldn't be a good idea to alienate his boss on their first real case.

Before they could finish taking the anamnesis, though, House appeared and prescribed steroids. How he came to the idea was a mystery, but when Foreman said his objection, he was ignored and House ordered Chase to administer the drugs. The slave of course did as he was told.

Foreman fumed some and then decided to do some environmental digging on his own, so he visited Rebecca's classroom. He found out that the class had a parrot as a pet and this discovery led to an idea that he tried to share with House as soon as he got back to the hospital. It was a big mistake. House first shot down idea – and later Foreman had to admit that his objections were valid ones – and then dropped a bombshell. House knew about his juvenile record that was Foreman's best-kept secret. Or so he thought. The fact that his biggest failure was actually what landed him in this job was … staggering to put it lightly.

They discussed the case again in the office, considering that the steroids seemed to help. They – or House more precisely, because Foreman would have never done such a reckless thing – decided to wait and see how Rebecca's symptoms would evolve.

"Chase, stay with her and report if anything changes!" House ordered.

Foreman looked up stunned. In this critical situation he thought that either he or Cameron would stay with Rebecca. After all if her condition took a turn for the worse, immediate measurements needed to be taken. Even if he didn't want to anger House, he felt that he needed to intervene so he spoke up.

"Chase, wait! You really think that it's a good idea to let a slave alone monitor our patient?" he asked from House.

Chase looked at House too, waiting for an order.

"Why wouldn't it be? He can do it, did it countless times, actually" House shrugged.

"But he's a slave!"

"Very perceptive" House said dryly.

"We studied half our lives to do this job" Foreman said.

"As did Chase" House countered and then continued without a pause. "Let me ask you something: How old were you the first time you took blood from a patient?"

"About 23."

"And how many trials did you need to do it perfectly?"

"I don't know. 10-15."

"When you made a mistake what did you get for it?"

"Nothing. By the time I was tested I could do it well. But I don't see.."

"Shh" House raised a finger warningly and turned towards the still waiting slave. "Chase, how old were you when you first took blood from a patient?"

"Ten, Sir."

"And how did it go? How many times did you need to prick the patient?"

"Twice, Sir. I couldn't find the vena immediately."

"What did you get for that?"

"Ten strokes with a cane, Sir."

"How many tries did you need to do it without a mishap?"

"Three, Sir."

House looked back at Foreman without a word. Foreman just stared back and didn't say anything when House waved at Chase to go and do as he was ordered.

ooo

It was interesting to break in with Foreman. She had to do this same act many times in the last six months, mostly with Chase. They didn't find much, though and now they were back in the office talking about the case again. Chase reported about Rebecca's condition and House came to the conclusion that she couldn't have tumor because she was getting worse too fast. Cameron tried to come up with something while Foreman and Wilson were bantering about whether Rebecca was the oncologist's cousin or not. But Cameron didn't really listen, she was watching House instead. So, she could see when the doctor's face turned suddenly somber – the same expression he got every time before he came up with some genius or very crazy idea.

The idea this time was both genius and crazy: from finding out that there was ham in Rebecca's home, he deduced that she had tapeworms. It actually fit: when you give steroids to a patient who has tapeworms she they first get a little better, then they get quickly worse, just like Rebecca did.

In the end though it didn't count much that House found the solution, because Rebecca was fed up with tests and treatments. Their every attempt was in vain - in the end House himself tried to talk to Rebecca – but their patient didn't waver. When House came from the room, it seemed that he yielded to her decision. As Doctor Wilson put it, House started to respect Rebecca Adler and so he wouldn't go against her wishes anymore. It seemed Foreman wasn't the only one who couldn't get this.

"So because you respect her, you're going to let her die?" Cameron asked in a stunned voice.

"I solved the case, my work is done" House said without looking at them and started to walk away. "Patients always want proof, we're not making cars here, we don't give guarantees."

Cameron tried to come up with something while House was leaving in the office's direction but it wasn't her who stopped their boss but Chase.

„Doctor House!"

Cameron has never heard Chase address anyone this way especially not House. The fact that House turned back surprised showed that this really wasn't a usual occurance at all.

„What?" the diagnostician asked.

The sudden attention – as Foreman and even Doctor Wilson was staring at him by now – disconcerted the slave enough that with a quick motion he dropped to the knees and answered with his head bowed.

„I think I know a way to prove that Miss Adler has tapeworms. A save and non-invasive way. I'm not sure…" he trailed off and glimpsed up with one eye.

„What the hell, Chase" House thundered in the silence. „Stand up and spill out your idea!"

Chase jumped up and continued that way.

„The worms light up under X-ray as shotgun pellets."

„And it's the same as a CT scan, which we did and it showed nothing" Foreman cut in.

„I know, Sir. But I think, if Miss Adler has a worm in her brain then she must have some others too, we could X-ray her thigh for example…" he went quiet then and blushed, probably because all the doctors still stared at him.

„You're right, damn it" House exclaimed. „You are good for something after all."

Chase smiled then, though it was not a big praise but Cameron knew that this was the biggest praise he could count on from House.

„Cameron, take Chase with you and do the X-ray. When you have the proof start her on the medicine" House ordered, then turned and left.

„That was a great idea" Cameron said when they were already alone, looking at the finished X-ray picture. The worm was glowing like a small light-bulb on it.

„Thank you, Ma'am. I hope Miss Adler agrees to take the medicine" he adds quietly.

„I'm sure she will, it's only two pills, after all."

She collects the pictures to show them to their patient and now she was absolutely sure that they would be able to cure Rebecca. Thanks to Chase.

„You should speak up more often, I think" she said and with a sudden decision she hugged the man. He felt Chase tense up at first but then he actually eased into the touch without hugging back, of course.

„Thank you, Doctor Cameron but I was way out of line speaking up like that. I probably should be punished."

Cameron pulled away and looked at the slave closely.

„You really mean that" she concluded. „Listen, Chase! You have just saved someone's life, if anybody wanted to punish you for that I would kick their asses personally" she was enraged even by the idea of that.

Chase just looked at her stunned but then grinned and suddenly he looked years younger, like a teenage boy, actually. She smiled back at him and patted him on the back.

„Let's go and heal a patient!"

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

AN: I'm really, really sorry for the long delay. I had some computer issues, then, when that was handled, I got sick and I didn't feel like sitting at my computer after work. But now I'm back on track, so here is the next chapter. It's the AU version of episode 5 in season 1.

**Extra warnings!**

There are some thoughts and in this chapter that might be offending to religious (especially Catholic people). Although I'm not Catholic, I don' have any prejudice against any religions. This is an AU world, so things are very different and it's a fact that the big religions always are supportive towards the ruling establishment (or the other way around).

There is corporal punishment in this one!

If you are still not with me, then read and enjoy! And please let me know what you think.

Thank you!

Damned if you do part 1

Chase was listening to Doctor House's bickering only with half an ear, the words weren't addressed at him after all. They were sitting at the registration counter of the walk-in clinic, or at least Doctor House and Doctor Wilson were sitting at the counter, Chase himself was more like sitting _under_ it, as he was seated on the floor, working on some billings of the Diagnostics Department.

"It's kind of ironic that you're complaining about paperwork, even though you are not doing any" Doctor Wilson said after Doctor House monologued for five minutes about the hell that bureaucracy meant and how demeaning it was for talented doctors to waste their time like that.

"Yes, but I hate to force Chase to do it, too" Doctor House said and his hand landed on Chase's head in a friendly pat.

"Yeah, sure" Doctor Wilson said dryly.

Chase glimpsed up at the oncologist but the doctor wasn't looking at him. He rarely was and that was fine with Chase because he was kind of scared of Doctor Wilson. Most times he tried to stay away when Doctor House's friend was around but today the two doctors were stuck in clinic duty together and Chase's presence was required by Doctor House. Once again, Doctor Cuddy ordered Chase's Master to stay in person and not let Chase take over. There was not much time left of the shift now and Doctor House decided to hide in plain sight.

"Shit, the wicked witch is coming" Doctor House said and Chase could hear the clicking of high heels.

"A patient is waiting for you in exam room 5" he heard the Dean of Medicine say.

"I'm off in five minutes" Doctor House answered.

"True, but the patient's been waiting for 45 minutes."

Chase couldn't see from the ground but something landed on the counter. From the sound of it, a file.

"I want you to go and do your job!"

"As you wish, my boss" Doctor House said, but he didn't make a move.

"I'm waiting" Doctor Cuddy said and Doctor House sighed.

"Can I take Chase to help?"

Chase stood up immediately and bowed his head to Doctor Cuddy.

"Oh, you're here" she said. "Yes, you can take him, but **you** should do the examination."

"Yes, Ma'am" Doctor House mock-saluted and picked up the file. "Come" he waved at Chase and he followed his Master into the exam room closely.

Then he saw the patient and her chaperons and stopped cold. They were nuns. Three nuns.

Doctor House told something but Chase didn't really hear what. His mind went into overdrive, memories pushing their way in the forefront.

He pulled back to the wall and dropped to the knees instinctively. He did that sometimes, because for more than twenty years it was a natural response to certain people. So, when he got distressed he went back to old habits, even if it always angered Doctor House. When his Master looked back at him and saw Chase in the corner, he frowned.

"What the fuck, Chase?"

Chase flinched, not just because his Master was angry but because there were **nuns** in the room, saying profanities in their presence was on the verge of blasphemy.

"I'm sorry, Master" it was just as instinctive to apologize as kneeling and obviously just as angering for Doctor House.

"I thought we were over this by now" he growled. "Stand up and concentrate!"

Without sparing another glance at Chase, Doctor House turned back to the nuns while Chase slowly stood and tried to listen to the conversation without actually looking at any of the sisters. It seemed to him that the sick nun had some kind of allergy and Doctor House came to the same conclusion.

"This is contact dermatitis" he concluded. "You're allergic to dish soap."

The sisters were somewhat skeptic, saying that Sister Augustine – that was the sick nun's name – has been working in the kitchen for a very long time.

"I've been a doctor for years. Why do I have to keep assuring people that I know what I'm doing? A person can become allergic to substances that they've had repeated and prolonged exposure to. The good news is: free samples. Chase, get me diphenhydramine!"

Chase took one box from the cupboard while Doctor House explained how to take it. He waited for Doctor House to take the medicine but the diagnostician just pointed at the sister, indicating that Chase should give the pills to her. Chase bowed his head deep and held out the medicine to the oldest sister.

"Take one now and rest a bit here because it works quickly. Chase, you stay here with them!"

Chase looked at Doctor House stunned, but the diagnostician was already leaving. Chase quickly stepped back into the corner and tried to stay invisible.

"I'll talk to your doctor for a second" the oldest nun said and stepped outside.

Chase felt that the two remaining women were staring at him but he didn't look up. It was one of the first lessons he learned was, that he wasn't allowed to look nuns in the face. But then he heard the patient's breathing change and despite every instinct to the contrary, he looked up.

"Are you all right Ma'am?"

"I'm not sure…"

Chase stepped to the cupboard and took out a stethoscope.

"Do you allow me to listen to your breathing?" he asked.

"Of course…"

He did, and the sister's lungs were whistling slightly.

"I think you're having an asthma attack. Bend forward a little bit please, and try to relax. I'm calling Doctor House" he opened the door and shouted out: "Master!"

Doctor House was there in a second, did the same thing as Chase and came to the same conclusion.

"You have an asthma attack" he said. "Chase!"

Chase already had the syringe with the epinephrine in his hand and gave it over to Doctor House to inject. Sister Augustine started to breathe easier immediately.

"What happened?" the oldest sister asked.

"It was probably an allergic reaction to the pill she took." Doctor House explained.

"She's allergic to an anti-allergy medicine?" the sister asked skeptically.

"You figure somebody's out to get her?"

Chase didn't really listen, though. He was watching Sister Augustine who still looked pale and somewhat sweaty. He discretely touched Doctor House's shoulder, and his Master immediately looked at the patient.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"My heart is feeling funny" she answered.

"We just gave you adrenaline, it makes your heart beat fast."

When he felt her pulse though, his expression changed and Chase straightened, seeing that. Something was surely wrong.

"But not this fast." Doctor House finished. "Lie back."

Sister Augustine started to wheeze again.

"Chase, call a code and charge up a defibrillator. She's got no pulse."

ooo

News obviously flew quickly in the hospital. House barely got back to his office when Cuddy's secretary called him and said that the Dean of Medicine wanted to see him. House didn't like to be summoned so curtly but he also didn't like when his privileges were cut short so he went, if somewhat reluctantly.

"Can you explain me how a patient with contact dermatitis is suddenly in critical condition?"

„Not, yet. But I'm sure you already have a working theory."

„You diagnosed the patient with allergies and prescribed antihistamine, she went into respiratory distress, and you injected her with epinephrine. Presumably 1 cc."

0.1 cc. That is the standard dose." House corrected her.

„People don't go into cardiac arrest from 0.1 cc epinephrine." Cuddy countered.

„She must have a pre-existing heart condition that got exacerbated by the epinephrine."

„It's too bad you didn't make a notation in the chart."

„I can make it up right now."

„The drawer has syringes with both dosages, you could have easily reached for the wrong one. From which drawer did you take the syringe?"

House didn't like where this was going at all.

"None of them. Chase gave it to me."

"And did you check it before administering?"

"Chase knows his numbers."

"Did you check it?"

"No, I didn't."

"Did you even tell him what dosage you needed?"

"I didn't even tell him to give me epinephrine. He knows what to do when a patient flat-lines."

But wasn't Chase distracted? House remembered suddenly. The boy looked like he was scared out if his mind seeing those nun and House had no idea what the reason was for that.

Cuddy pushed a button on her telephone to talk to her assistant.

"Please, page Chase to come to my office, too."

House just frowned at her and they waited a few minutes in silence until there was a knock and at Cuddy's order Chase came inside. He stopped at the edge of the carpet silently.

"I asked you here to talk about the incident at the clinic. Tell me in your own words what happened."

"The sister had bad rashes on both her hands. Doctor House told her that it was contact dermatitis and gave her steroids. He then left the room but told me to stay with the patient. She started to struggle breathing, I listened to her lungs and then called Doctor House. Soon after, she collapsed and I gave Doctor House a dose of epinephrine. Only seconds later she flatlined and I went for the crashcart. She got back into sinus rhytme at the first shock."

"What dosage of epinephrine did you give to Doctor House?"

"0.1 ccs, Ma'am."

_Good boy_, House thought.

"Are you absolutely sure about that?" Cuddy asked.

Chase started to nod, but then his eyes went unfocused for a second as if replaying the scene.

"No, Ma'am." he said then quietly.

"You're an idiot" House said angrily and Chase lowered his head. "Of course, you gave 0.1 ccs, why would you have given anything else?!"

"I'm sorry, Doctor House… but I pulled the syringe from the drawer instinctively and I can't actually recall the label on it."

Cuddy was playing with a pen not looking at House or Chase.

"That's unacceptable and requires punishment I suppose." she said.

"I'm sorry for my mistake, Ma'am. Please, help me to be a better slave." Chase said and went to his knees, bending forward, his forehead touching the ground.

House knew that these words were the traditional ones when a slave asked for punishment but it was a long time ago when he heard them last. In the US they weren't widely used anymore.

Cuddy looked surprised too, but only for a second.

"Your wish will be granted." she said.

"This is ridiculous." House burst out loudly. "You can't mean to punish him for this. You would never be able to find a doctor who actually remembers looking at labels."

"But Chase is not a doctor." Cuddy said simply. "Chase, go and wait outside!"

The boy jumped up and left in a second.

"You can't question my authority in front of him." Cuddy said when the door was closed.

"He doesn't deserve punishment."

"He needs to pay attention at every moment he works. What he does is a very important job."

"And you really think Chase doesn't know that?"

"I'm sure he does. But sometimes every slave needs a reminder. You don't have to be there, Chase belongs to the hospital so this is my decision and my responsibility. Or do you want me to report this to the discipline board?"

House wanted to argue some more but he knew when there was no chance to convince her.

"All right" he grumbled. "But I need him back as soon as possible."

"Of course, it won't take long. As for the patient, I can justify keeping her here for 24-hour observation. If you haven't found an underlying cause for the cardiac arrest by then you will have to discharge her. Send Chase back in on your way out, please!"

ooo

Chase was waiting outside the office while Doctor Cuddy and Doctor House decided about his punishment. He knew he deserved it. He has admonished himself mentally since the moment they've left the clinic. He shouldn't have let himself get lost in his memories. Everything that had happened in the past was necessary. With a less strict training he wouldn't have been able to learn all the things he needed to serve correctly.

He didn't actually believe that a wrong dose had been administered and he was sure that Doctor House would find out what was wrong with Sister Augustine, but that wasn't the point. Doctor Cuddy was right to punish him. He should always pay attention, no matter what and he hoped the punishment would help him gain back his focus. It usually did.

Doctor House came out of the office then and he looked very angry. He stopped face to face with Chase and Chase couldn't have looked him in the eyes even if he had been allowed to. Doctor House just stared at him and Chase wanted to kneel again.

"I'm really sorry, Doctor House." he said quietly.

"You think I want to hear your apologies?"

"No, Sir."

"You're right for once. Go back in there and after you're done here, come back to the department immediately."

"Yes, Sir." Chase said but Doctor House was already gone.

Chase walked back into Doctor Cuddy's office.

"I called a professional executor. He will administer the punishment under my supervision. Your punishment will be caning, twenty strikes. The executor will be here at any moment."

"Thank you, Ma'am." Chase said simply.

"Can you take it standing?"

That was a strange question, because of course he would take it any way it was delivered but he answered anyway.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"All right, take off your shirt and stand in that corner, facing to the wall." she pointed to the corner opposite her desk.

Chase stood in position and waited. The executor arrived soon and he and Doctor Cuddy had a quiet conversation about the punishment. Chase listened to it only with half an hear, but he heard when the executor asked:

"Do you want him to count aloud?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you." Doctor Cuddy answered.

Chase then felt the man step up closer.

"I'm starting now." he said. Chase put his hands on the wall and relaxed the muscles in his shoulder and back.

He wasn't ordered to count aloud but he still counted in his head and at every strike he tried to concentrate on the clinic and on what happened there earlier.

One… he thought about the examination room.

Two… he could clearly see Sister Augustine on the examination table…

Three… the sister was gasping for air…

Four… Doctor House laid her down…

Five… the sister was wheezing hard…

Six… he pulled out the second drawer on the left…

Seven… the clinic disappeared and Chase saw himself bent over Sister Michaela's desk, a riding crop coming down over his back again and again. He shook his head slightly at the eights strike. Breathed in through his nose and out through the mouth at the ninth.

Ten… the second drawer on the left…

Eleven… there were twenty-one syringes in the drawer…

Twelve… he pulled out one…

Thirteen… he could clearly see the label as he handed it over to Doctor House, 0.1 ccs…

Fourteen… Fifteen… Sixteen… his right knee buckled but he caught himself. Seventeen… Eighteen… Nineteen… Twenty… For Chase the last strike was always the most painful, he gave out a soft moan as it landed on his lower back and let his head fall forward. He was breathing heavily.

There was some more conversation between Doctor Cuddy and the executor, then Chase heard the man leave.

"You can turn now." Doctor Cuddy said.

Chase did, and went down on his knees.

"Thank you, Doctor Cuddy. I'll remember my duty better now."

"I'm glad to hear that. You can leave when you're ready." she said and turned back to a file on her desk.

Doctor House said to get back as soon as he was finished, so Chase didn't even wait for his breathing to get back to a normal rhythm. He stood up on somewhat shaky legs and pulled back the shirt over his head. It felt harsh against his beaten back. He has been caned enough times to know that by evening he would have impressive bruises and a deep ache in the muscles for at least a few days. But that was how it had to be. It will help him stay sharp and focused that much longer.

ooo

House was throwing glances at the corridor as he listened to Cameron and Foreman's ideas. He shot them down one by one. His thoughts were both on the case and on Chase and he was quite angry both at Cuddy and at Chase, but most of all at himself. He should have argued more in the dean's office as he was absolutely sure that Chase didn't make a mistake. The boy behaved strangely for sure and looked almost scared at the clinic but even half asleep he would know the right dosage and knew where everything was stored better than House did. _Why the hell would he admit that he was guilty?_ That was the stupidest thing House has ever heard from the slave, and honestly, he has heard a lot of stupid things from him as a daily routine. So he was sure as hell angry at him.

When he at last glimpsed Chase in the corridor, Foreman and Cameron were arguing about whether or not the patient had Church-Strauss. The boy moved with his usual smoothness and he slipped into the office silently. House could see no sign of what kind of punishment was administered on him, but Chase obviously felt that his punishment wasn't over, as he stayed standing in the corner.

"If it was any other attending doctor, I'd say that he made a mistake and gave her too much epinephrine" Foreman was saying.

"Saying you wouldn't say it was my mistake is saying it was my mistake" House said.

"Everyone screws up: your rule. I think you fit inside the subset of 'everyone'."

"_I_ didn't screw up. Chase!"

The slave stepped forward immediately.

"What dosage did we give the sister?"

"0,1 ccs, Sir." Chase answered without hesitation now.

"Sister?" Cameron asked.

"Didn't I say that our patient is a nun? Sister Augustine. She's really scary, at least Chase thinks so – but back to topic. Is 0.1 ccs too much, Doctor Foreman?"

"No, but are you really sure?"

"Chase, are you really sure?"

"Yes, Sir."

"How comes?" House asked. "You weren't so sure before."

"My punishment helped me to remember, Sir." Chase said.

"You're an idiot." House declared again, then without waiting for an answer he continued. "Order a chest CT and start the sister on prednisone, 40 mg. TID. Chase, you stay with her throughout the test and monitor her reactions to the medication."

"Yes, Sir." House didn't think he's just imagined Chase turning paler at that order.

His team left in a hurry and House went over to his office and pulled Chase's file from the desk's drawer. He wanted to check out something and turned to the pages about schooling. There it was: Chase went through most of his courses at a catholic school for slaves.

House turned to the computer and looked up the school mentioned in the file. It was as he's suspected, the school was run by nuns and provided a lot of different courses for slave owners. It was obviously also well respected. There were a few videos, too and House started one. It was a TV interview with an elderly nun – head of the institution due to the captions.

"_I know that many owners are worried about letting their slaves into a community. They are afraid that the slaves will get improper ideas from eachother." the nun was saying. "I can assure every worried owner that nothing like that can happen at our institution. It's one of our most important rules that the slaves who study here can't talk to each other."_

"_At all?" the unseen reporter asked._

"_That's right. We always make sure that every slave knows its place. This requires strict rules of course and strong hands."_

"_Some liberal organizations complained that your methods are inhuman in a school."_

"_They are wrong. This is not a normal school. We are talking about slaves here and most of them come here as adults. Their masters want them to learn independent thinking to a degree but this mustn't change their behavior and their thinking about their own positions. To ensure that we need to remind them regularly who has the power over them."_

"_Does this mean that you often use physical punishments?"_

"_Yes, we do. That's the only language slaves generally understand."_

House pushed the stop button, disgusted. He heard enough, Chase was obviously badly traumatized by those nuns. In the name of God, for sure. House was neither naïve, nor a moralist. He knew that slavery was the base of the world's economy, social policy and penal system. He also knew that to keep it up there had to be rules. But he could never understand those who thought about slaves as objects. Slaves were people, just in a different social cast, with much less rights than others.

US laws required every slave owner to take an exam on slave-rights (nothing big, it was actually easier than getting a driver license), some punishments were prohibited and it was advised to employ professional executors for every punishment (but that wasn't obligatory). There was also the Federal Bureau of Slave Protection that investigated cases of extreme abuse. There were other countries where law on slavery was more to keep the slaves themselves in check and not about protecting them. And Australia was definitely one of those.

House could now understand why Chase was so jumpy around the nuns but he also decided that he would need to treat the boy out of his phobia.

ooo


End file.
